Prisoner of War, Love and Lust
by Cupid's Knight
Summary: Quinn is a French Musketeer and Rachel is an English Duchess in a loveless marriage. They'll meet in difficult circumstances. Will their love blossom? G!P Quinn. Based on "The Three Musketeers".
1. A Musketeer's Life Sort of

**Plot is not entirely mine, I may have adjusted it somewhat to fit the story, but original plotline is from Alexandre Dumas' "The Three Musketeers". If you've read it, you'll know some things to expect.**

**Characters and plot are not mine, and never will be mine. I wish Dianna Agron and Lea Michele were, but I'm to live in this sad world**

**Enjoy :)**

* * *

><p>The clash of steel against steel reverberated inside the closed practice range. It was hot inside thanks to the blazing fire from the torches, and sweat pooled and ran in rivulets down the bodies of the two swordsmen.<p>

Panting, they ran and circled each other, trying to find an open gap through which they could run their blades. They pushed, thrust, and jabbed the open air, missing flesh by mere centimeters.

By now the only noise heard were the light footsteps of the two fighters, the whistle of blade cutting through air, and their heavy breathing. They stopped in front of one another, their guard barely up due to tired muscles, eyes nailed to those of their opponent.

Hazel eyes trained on dark brown ones that stared right back. Neither one wanted to move first, both set against giving away their strategy.

The sound of clapping and light chuckling brought them out of their fighting-induced trance.

A man, tall and strong despite his 42 years and counting, stepped out of the shadows and into the circle of light made by the torches. He had thick robes thrown on top of a light shirt and riding pants; his boots were caked in mud, and his light brown hair had a light sprinkling of snow, indicating that winter was almost there.

He had a playful twinkle in his hazel eyes, and a hidden smile tugged lightly at the corner of his lips. He regarded both fighters, who, by now, were less concerned with fighting each other and more concerned with knowing what this man wanted.

"Quinn, Santana, your mother sent me down here to call the both of you up. She said that ever since we gave the two of you permission to join the King's Musketeers, she hasn't seen hide nor hair from you, and, frankly, neither have I, but, I'll admit, I wasn't as worried as your mother. I know you two can take care of yourselves," Russell Fabray looked at the tallest fighter and saw hazel eyes staring back at him.

"I understand your need to train," he continued, looking at both girls equally, "but training shouldn't come before all your other duties. The both of you were supposed to be representing me in the court of the King of Spain. Since neither of you were to be found, I ordered Ruben to go in your place." He smiled at them, but his tone of voice held authority and penalty if he were to be disobeyed. "Don't let it happen again." He turned on his heel and walked away.

The silence that surrounded Quinn and Santana was broken when the latter started taking the heavy gear off of her haggard body. The sound of metal armor falling filled the practice range as Quinn followed the other girl's example. Quinn looked at the other girl, who was practically her sister, not by blood but by bond.

The Fabrays were a powerful family that lived in Chartres, France. Russell Fabray was a lieutenant in the army of King Henry IV, and after that, in the army of King Louis XIII, until a sword fight gone wrong restricted the movement of his right arm (his blade arm) and the movement of his left leg, leaving him severely unbalanced and incapable of fighting, as King Louis XIII sadly put it.

Monsieur Fabray's wife, Judy, lived most of her life in Tours. When Monsieur Fabray's campaign passed through Tours towards La Rochelle, Judy was out with her family and their paths, as well as their eyes, met. And the rest, as Madame Fabray likes to put it, is history that everyone already knows. They got married and had two beautiful daughters, Quinn and Charlotte.

Even though the Fabrays followed the Christian religion, they were accepting of Charlotte when she got pregnant out of wedlock. They helped her raise her baby in a loving and caring environment. They were concerned, if not a tad confused, when Quinn grew a penis instead of getting her blood like all other girls.

Judy took Charlotte under her wing, teaching her everything she needed to know about motherhood and taking care of a baby; Russell took Quinn under his, talking to her about her newfound appendage, teaching her how to take care of herself (pun maybe intended).

He wasn't too preoccupied when Quinn told him she was interested in girls instead of boys. It made the "talk" way easier for him. He taught her to respect a woman, both in public and in intimacy.

While on vacation in Bordeaux, the Fabrays took in Santana Lopez, a Spanish runaway wanted for false accusations of adultery and prostitution. The Fabrays took her back to Chartres and, after asking for permission to keep her as part of their family, King Louis XIII granted her French citizenship.

As time went by, Santana, Quinn and Charlotte found themselves bonding over every little thing, from Quinn's attraction to the female population, to Charlotte's passion for writing and composing music, to Santana's need for freedom.

Quinn and Santana became the best of friends, and when Quinn confided in Santana about the 10 1/2 inch appendage hanging between her legs, Santana just showed mild curiosity, but nothing else. Quinn was relieved to say the least, thinking that her best friend/sister would run for the hills when she found out.

Back to the present time, Santana and Quinn took off their gear and put it away, remembering to clean and polish their blades for next time. The silence around them was amiable and comfortable for the girls, who found solace in each other's presence.

"We should probably go to the manor; I feel we need to talk to mom about our upcoming journey to Paris, and our imminent entry into the ranks of the King's Musketeers." Quinn's smooth voice gently broke the silence.

Santana regarded Quinn with the same apprehension in her chocolate stare. She nodded, "You're right. Maybe she can give us her blessing before she goes off to Nice. Besides, you know she'll have something to give to us before we leave as well, since coming back here is going to prove difficult."

Despite their physical differences, both girls were so much alike it was scary. Quinn was tall, blonde, hazel-eyed, and fair-skinned; and Santana was tall as well, but raven-haired, brown-eyed, and tan. Both wanted to prove something: that they were equal, if not better, than their male counterparts. And they both wanted to repay King Louis for letting Santana stay in France, with them.

They dressed back in their shirts and pants; Quinn's pants looser than Santana's for obvious reason. At one time, Santana asked Quinn the reason behind her pants being looser than Santana's. Flushed from her neck to the tip of her ears, Quinn explained that every once in a while, it… got… happy at the sight of attractive girls or women, and if she were to use tighter pants, and she got an erection, there would be a lot of uncomfortable questions that people would want answered, and Quinn, unfortunately, didn't have the answers to the questions people would undoubtedly ask.

The girls made their way to the door of the practice range; from there they could see the silhouette of the Fabray manor, blurred by snowflakes being thrown around by the gusts of wind that signaled the beginning of the month of November. They looked at each other and sighed. They locked the door of the practice range, and ran up the stone steps that would take them to the back entrance of the manor.

They ran inside, out of breath and freezing in their light clothing. They went up the staircase that would take them to the family living quarters. They went to their respective rooms to change their snow-soaked clothes into dry, warm robes.

As they passed in front of the master bedroom, where M. and Mme. Fabray slept, they heard the voice of Mme. Fabray, whispering to someone, who they thought would be M. Fabray or Charlotte.

"…they can't see that the Musketeers have no place in their ranks for women. The both of them want to continue in their father's footsteps, they think that they have something to prove, when the reality is that they both should be looking for suitable husbands and let the men do what they are supposed to. Even Quinn with her defects should be looking to marry and have children…"

Quinn, brokenhearted at hearing her mother's voice laced with disgust when she mentioned her penis and her attraction to girls, stormed off to her room before Santana could think of something to say or do.

Knowing Quinn would need some time to herself so she could cool off, Santana chose to let her go and stealthily neared the door and stole a quick peek into the master bedroom. She was shocked to find Mme. Fabray in bed with another man.

The stranger had his arm around Mme. Fabray's shoulders, his hand trailing into her hair; his other hand was rubbing her left arm lightly while her right hand was under the covers. Santana guessed with a scowl what that hand would be doing.

"Don't you worry, ma chérie," he stage-whispered in a deep voice that resonated deep in Santana's chest, "I believe that God will show them the right path when he deems it necessary…" He gasped and trailed off, turning his face to moan into her hair.

Santana took a good look at the man. He had light brown hair, cut short; she couldn't see his eyes but he had a rather peculiar scar, she noticed, from a spot below his ear, going down a clean-shaven jawline and stopping at his chin. His skin was sun-kissed but lighter than her own, and at the moment it shone with a light coat of sweat.

Santana heard his breathing pick up and noticed his hips started to move, but couldn't tear herself away from the scene she was witnessing.

The man gave a cry and shuddered violently. He laid back on the bed, taking lungful after lungful of oxygen, his chest heaving with each breath. He turned his head and looked at Mme. Fabray before rolling over on top of her. The cover slipped and Santana caught an eyeful of a well-rounded and firm ass, before his hips took off at a blinding speed.

Santana turned away from the room, closing her eyes against the images that seared and burned her brain. She couldn't, however, close her ears to the cries of ecstasy that were emitted from the inside of the chamber. Mme. Fabray's moans mixed with the foreigner's grunts to form a chaotic ballad that had Santana gasping for breath.

She fled the doorway that had been as much a witness of the treason as she had been. She ran, her heart hammering in her chest, blood pumping furiously in her veins, making her ears pound. Her steps were muffled by the rich, thick Persian rug that M. Fabray had acquired in a trip he had made for King Louis, before his honorable discharge from the Musketeers.

She reached Quinn's chamber and started pounding on the door. Quinn flung the door open, confusion and mild irritation written clearly all over her face. She noticed Santana's tears and ushered her inside, closing the door softly behind her.

Santana sat down at the edge of Quinn's bed; her shoulders were hunched, her elbows rested on her knees, and her face was buried in her hands. Quinn could hear the faint sobs and sniffling coming from the brunette.

"Santana, sweetheart, what's wrong? Why are you crying? Tell me and I'll make sure it is get rid of immediately!" Quinn whispered, sitting down beside her best friend and gently wrapping an arm around her shoulders feeling the faint tremors racking Santana's body.

The brunette raised her head, and shifted red-rimmed chocolate orbs to Quinn's hazel stare. Seeing the confusion, the tender compassion that the blonde's eyes held, she flung her arms around Quinn's neck, buried her face in the girl's collarbone and started sobbing more openly.

Quinn, not knowing what caused such a strong reaction from Santana but understanding she needed comfort, hugged her to her chest tightly, moving her head so her cheek brushed soft black locks and placed a loving kiss on the top of Santana's head. Quinn wanted to know what had made tough-as-nails Santana cry, but knew that Santana needed to be emotionally stable before she could let Quinn in on what she guessed was a horrible secret.

When she felt Santana start to get her breath back, sniffling lightly and panting softly, she brought her out of her embrace and looked at her with kind eyes. As Santana stabilized, Quinn felt a small smile make its way onto her face.

"Hey," Quinn's voice registered in Santana's hazy mind, "Tana, can you hear me? What's wrong, what happened? Santana?" Quinn's voice got louder and clearer with passing second.

Santana looked at the girl who she regarded as her pale, blonde, and light-eyed twin.

"Q, your mom… She… I…" Santana stuttered out, her eyes looking intently into Quinn's, unknowingly searching for something that told her Quinn had somehow understood what her aching heart screamed out.

Before she could continue, though, there was a firm rapping of knuckles against Quinn's chamber door. Quinn looked at Santana, gauging whether or not she was calm enough to be left alone, even for the few seconds that would take Quinn to cross her room and open the door.

She decided to play it safe and, after uttering a soft 'come in', went back to Santana, and noticed that her best friend's face had gone blank before paling and giving way to something Quinn recognized as pure, unadulterated panic. Santana's eyes were wide with terror, her mouth open, breathing in quickly even though seconds before, her lungs were happy with the usual oxygen intake.

Santana panted, feeling like her lungs would collapse if she didn't get oxygen inside them fast enough. Quinn couldn't understand what was happening to her Spanish counterpart, but she looked at the open door of her room. There, just a step away from entering the room, stood Mme. Fabray with a confused look marring her features that, Quinn thought, must match her own.

Quinn's logical brain helped put two and two together, which would get her to the conclusion that the correct answer was four. She didn't voice her suspicions, knowing Santana would hate being put on the spot, and Quinn knew her mother would blatantly lie to her face.

She instead looked between Santana, who had turned into a statue of flesh, blood and bone, and her mother, who was portraying a surprised look on her face. She raised an eyebrow towards her mother, snapping her out of her stupor rather quickly. Quinn internally furrowed her brow and stored the quiet exchange in her brain to review and analyze further at a later date.

She regarded her mom. Looking like an older version of her drop dead gorgeous daughters, Mme. Fabray still looked as beautiful at the age of 39 as she did at the age 20. Blonde hair pulled back into a bun that rested at her nape, blue eyes that Quinn didn't have, but Charlotte and her baby had inherited; tall and slender frame, pale skin and high cheekbones that, thankfully, Quinn had inherited.

On closer inspection, Quinn's hawk-like vision caught a patch of reddened skin that was slightly covered up by the high neck of her mother's robe. She stopped herself from narrowing her eyes at the sight, not wanting to alert her mother to the fact the Quinn now knew her mother was doing one of two things: A) She was trying to rekindle her marriage or B) She was cheating on her husband and the father of her two girls and getting into bed with another man.

Quinn couldn't bear the pang of pain that the latter thought caused her, so she left the thought alone and decided to get her conversation with her mother over and done with. "Yes, mother. What can I, or we, help you with?" Quinn's smile almost fell when she heard her own voice waver with anxiety.

Fortunately for her, her mother didn't catch her daughter's anxiety-stricken countenance. Either that or she preferred to keep quiet about it. It seemed like Quinn wasn't the only one trying to get the much-needed mother-daughter-surrogate daughter conversation out of the way as quickly and painlessly as it was possible.

"Quinnie," Mme. Fabray cooed, noticing how her daughter winced at the name. Judy had always known Quinn hated that name with all her soul, but continued nonetheless, "Santana… You already know what my opinion is on the subject of your departure to Paris in search of a place with the King's Musketeers, but if this is what you want to do, since I know I'm not going to be able to change your minds, then I give you my blessing."

Mme. Fabray looked from her daughter to her surrogate daughter, and she smiled. If Quinn and Santana noticed that the smile was a fake, they decided to not say anything about it. "I have something for each of you. Think of them as talismans, to keep you safe and to remind you that your father, Charlotte, and I will always love you. If…" Mme. Fabray's eyes started to well up with tears, but she pushed on, "if anything should happen to either of you, I pray that these tokens make it back to us, so we can give a piece of you a proper Christian burial, and send your spirit on to Heaven." She gave them a watery smile.

She sniffled, and stepped forward to embrace Quinn. When she pulled back, she presented her with a golden cross pendant. Quinn pulled her hair up and away from her neck and her mother fastened the necklace. When she let the delicate chain go, the cross fell to rest just above the valley of Quinn's breasts.

Quinn thanked her mother and touched the necklace. She lifted it up to her eyes and inspected it. Her trust on her mother, unfortunately, bordered dangerously close to nonexistent. Her eyes caught a word inscribed on the horizontal piece of the cross. She looked at it closer: "FABRAY". The cross bore her last name, so if anyone found her body they could bring it or the pendant back to her family. She looked beside her, at Santana who also had a cross, the name Fabray inscribed on the back of hers as well.

Mme. Fabray cleared her throat, and both girls looked at her. "That was your dual talisman. This way, your bodies can find their way here, and if not, at least the talismans will… Now, your individual gifts. Quinn, for you, your father's sword. He has taken very good care of it and when he heard you say you wanted to join the Musketeers, he decided then and there that this sword would be yours." Mme. Fabray handed a sword to Quinn, who pulled it out of its scabbard.

The blade glinted wickedly in the sunlight, and the gold hilt was intricately made. Quinn put up the rapier; complex rings of gold were fused to the cup hilt and wound down and around to cover her whole hand and wrist. The weight was pretty much perfect for Quinn, who had been training with a somewhat heavier sword: a foil. Normally used for fencing, a practice foil was blunted and Quinn and Santana didn't have any other swords available, and it took a long time to make one, so they had to make do with the practice foils.

She made a mental note to thank her father before they left for Paris. A ray of refracted light caught her eye, quite literally, and left her seeing spots for a couple of seconds. She blinked the after-image away, and looked at what Santana was holding. It was a dagger, about eight inches long and ½ inch wide, with a hilt made of glass-incrusted silver. This was what had blinded her, if for a short period of time. She saw as Santana twirled the dagger playfully between her fingers. That trick always made Quinn shiver, and this time was no different. She tensed and released the muscles in her shoulders, and cracked her neck in the process.

"This was Quinn's great-great-great-grandfather's dagger. He used to tell us this story, in which he was alone in a mountain in Northern Italy, and he was ambushed by a couple of rogue Musketeers… Mind you, they were the Cardinal's Musketeers… And he lost his rapier mid-fight, but he disposed of the rest of them with this dagger. Now I don't know if he was glorifying his story, or making it up, but this dagger has done damage. And both Russell and I want you to have it, Santana." She sighed.

Mme. Fabray looked at both girls, and she pulled them into a bone-crushing hug. Both girls were careful to put their weapons away from their mother before returning the hug. She looked at the two girls, and giving them a kiss on the forehead to each, Mme. Fabray crossed Quinn first and then Santana and gave them a final word of blessing. She then turned around and made a show of sniffling loudly, before going out the door. The girls looked at each other and laughed quietly at Mme. Fabray's lame attempt at pity.

They sobered up and realized that this was it; that was their last night at Fabray manor before going in their way to Paris, with a personalized note from M. Fabray to M. de Tréville, the Captain of the King's Musketeers.

They already had some of their clothing packed away, in the case that they were accepted, a letter would be sent to the manor for their belongings to be moved to Paris; in case they were rejected, they would spend a couple of days in Paris, getting drunk and bad-mouthing and cursing the Musketeers to the depths of Hell and back, and then they would make their way back to Fabray manor and settle into whatever the future brought to them. Cross those bridges when they got to them and what not.

They dressed for dinner and went downstairs and into the dining room. The dinner consisted of the girls' personal favorites: Roasted potatoes, mushroom-and-spices-stuffed turkey, spiced carrot cream and pigs in a blanket, butter-marinated lobster and basil salmon terrine, Caesar salad with garlic-and spices dressing, and poulet-a-l'orange. The girls waited for M. Fabray to start eating before they themselves did. After a hefty dessert of chocolate mousse, vanilla crème brûlée, and strawberry and raspberry sorbet, the girls thanked and bid farewell to M. Fabray before heading on up to bed. They were anxiously excited about what this new chapter in their life would bring, but they were ready to meet the challenge head on.

* * *

><p><strong>Reviews will tell me if I should keep going...<strong>

**I shall love you forever, especially the ladies ;) Sorry, guys**


	2. Queen of Hearts

**I actually had this one ready as well, so I could give background info on both Quinn and Rachel. You may hate me for what I did with this, but trust me when I say it'll be worthy in the end. Personally I've never liked Jesse, he's a dick. And as such I portray him... :)**

**Again, not mine.**

**Enjoy :)**

* * *

><p>Rachel Berry woke up in her bed, and couldn't help but notice that she wasn't in her own room. She rolled her eyes and breathed a heavy sigh when she remembered the reason for her current situation. 'I'm sure he's off fucking one of his many whores.' She sighed; Jesse St. James, she still couldn't fathom how in the world she believed he would change his ways and focus on the part of the kingdom that was under his charge and, of course, her, the woman that he still called his wife, even though they hadn't shared a bed, let alone had sex (with each other), in quite some time.<p>

She had married Jesse at her parents' insistence that it was a 'match made in Heaven', to use their own words. They said that he was good-looking enough to keep up with her killer looks. Yes, she could easily admit that he was very handsome, but narcissistic by nature, arrogant, and a serious flirt. He was also very charming, but had a snake-like tendency to bite out venomous replies if something didn't go his way. He was ambitious, bordering on greedy, so when his father died and left Carlisle Castle and the rest of his property to him, he immediately came to ask for her hand in marriage, knowing her parents wouldn't refuse him. To quote him correctly, he had noted, 'I always get what I want, no matter what or who it is.'

She brought herself back from the depths of her memory bank. She looked around once more and, once again, let her mind float and sift through the rest of her memories. Choosing the one she wanted, she played it back with a grimace tainting her beautiful features.

(Flashback)

_She was walking in the market, looking at all the wares. Jewelers set out the products of their profession; the gold and silver jewelry glinted in the midday sun, winking at her from every direction. The intricate patterns designed by deft hands bewitched her sight and the finely chiseled designs left her breathless. Some made simply of the gorgeous, glittery metal, while other, more expensive pieces had precious gems incrusted in them. She would have to ask Jesse if she could purchase some of the jewels for herself, since he wouldn't let her give some of them to help her parents with their financial problems._

_After the jewelry, the potters set up their merchandise. Bowls, plates, tea sets, and delicate figurines. These didn't grab her attention as much as the jewelry had. Up next, the farmers showed deliciously ripe fruits and vegetables. Knowing that the food she ate came from people that worked hours upon hours of swelteringly and blisteringly hot days out in the sun made her appreciate them that much more._

_While walking away from the farmers' place of the market, she noticed a familiar-looking head of wavy hair. 'Jesse?' she wondered, remembering an earlier conversation in which he explained he had important business to attend and he couldn't put it off to a later date._

_She kept her eyes on the tall, curly-headed figure in front of her, determined to find out if it actually was her husband. She saw it turn a corner and she followed close behind. She lost him momentarily, but distant echoing footsteps and a faint silhouette led her in the right direction._

_She peeked around the corner, not wanting to be discovered by her husband and feeling bad for spying on him, if this person was really him, but the nagging feeling behind her stomach wished to know what 'Jesse' was doing here, when he told her that he wouldn't be leaving the castle._

_She kept turning her head until she got a good view of the person she had followed; she gasped softly, still weary of her compromising position. It was Jesse. 'That lying little bastard,' she thought bitterly. She couldn't believe Jesse would blatantly lie to her! They had been married for a mere 2 months, and he was already going behind her back! She was outraged, to put it lightly._

_She kept her eyes on him, not wanting to miss whatever he was about to do so she could shove it in his face later that night, or when he least expected it. 'Not like he would expect it, anyhow,' the thought alone brought a small smile to her face._

_She thought she was hallucinating when the wind brought to her ears soft moans and heavyset pants. But her eyes proved her wrong: Jesse was hidden, away from the commotion of the market, in the shadows, panting and moaning, grunting and groaning because he was… masturbating? Didn't she fulfill those needs as a woman? Sure they had been intimate a couple of times, namely their honeymoon (which wasn't all that spectacular), his birthday (first and only time she would ever suck him, or anyone else, off), and random on-and-offs (which was, whenever he felt like giving it to her)._

_His moans got louder and brought her back to the present. His hands seemed to be in front of his hips, which were rapidly pounding away at whatever it is he was thrusting into. Then, she heard another groan, a very different groan than Jesse's. Jesse's groans were deep and came from low within his chest; this groan was soft and almost melodic. She froze when Jesse spoke, "Yeah, you little whore, take my entire dick in your mouth. That's right, that's a good little slut." He slapped the cheek of the woman (Rachel could tell from the sounds alone) that was kneeling in front of him._

_"Yeah, bitch, suck my cock! I would think your husband could satisfy you, but you're a greedy little cunt, so you always want more. But, don't you worry; Papa Jesse and his big buddy will take good care of your pussy.' The tone of his voice made bile rise up in her throat. She wanted to throw up so badly, but she swallowed it back and the burning in her throat lessened._

_Jesse's pants grew frantic and his hips slammed back and forth at a breakneck speed. His breathing picked up even more, if possible, and his hips started to lose their rhythm as he lost himself in a haze of pleasure. With one last thrust, he came and dumped his load inside the girl's mouth. 'Swallow, you little slut! I won't pull out until you swallow my cum!' he tells her, and to make his point, he pushes his semi-hard dick back into her mouth._

_When he feels the muscles in her throat contract and relax repeatedly, he pulls out and starts stroking himself to full hardness. 'Stand up, bitch!' he spat at the woman. She does as he ordered, and Rachel is surprised to find that this girl can't be that much older than herself._

_The girl's face had lost most of its baby fat, and the pale skin appeared to be soft and smooth. Her head was topped by flowing, wavy red hair that went well past her shoulders and was tied loosely with a black ribbon at the nape of her neck. Her arms shifted at her sides, small hands twisting the apron that covered the front of her flowery dress. Rachel saw how Jesse reached across, between their bodies, and grabbed the girl's hand. He pulled at it, meeting resistance. He scowled and backhanded her with his free hand. The resounding slap covered up Rachel's shocked gasp._

_Jesse pulled the girl's hand again, finding it loose and easy to manipulate. He smirked, and pulled the small hand towards his throbbing cock. He wrapped her hand around his shaft, and put his own on top of hers so she wouldn't pull away. He stepped closer to her, with a smug grin on his face and he started pumping their joined hands up and down his cock. Her hand barely covered the circumference of the cock, but she squeezed, trying to get her whole hand around him, hoping to hurt him, but a breathy groan from Jesse told her otherwise._

_He lets go of her hand, and puts both palms on the wall behind her, each hand besides her hand, effectively trapping the girl between the wall and his body. He pushes his hips back and forth into the hand slowly stroking him to orgasm. He pants hard and stops her with a hand on her wrist. She looks up at him, unsure of what this new development meant. He pushed both her wrists up and against the wall besides her head, replacing his own. "Here they'll stay until I'm done with you," He pushed on her wrists a little more forcefully, making sure to keep eye contact with her._

_He slowly moved his hands down, grabbing ahold of her dress and pulling it up to hike it around her hips. Holding the dress-skirts up with one hand, he used his free hand to remove her panties. He lightly fingered her pussy, not really worried that she wasn't wet for him. He circled her clit and brushed the tip of his forefinger against it, putting light pressure on it._

_The girl gasped at the sensation, and felt a tug somewhere deep inside her lower abdomen. He smirked when his fingers were suddenly coated with warm, sticky fluids. He rubbed it around, spreading it all over her pussy. Gathering more of it, he covered his member, lubing it up and preparing it for penetration._

_He lined himself at her entrance, and with one swift thrust, pushed his cock inside of her. The agonizing scream that was ripped from the girl's throat made Rachel's blood run cold in her veins. Jesse didn't let up, and started a fast pace against the girl's hips. He put his hands securely on her waist, using that as leverage to pull her into him as he pushed himself inside of her._

_Her pained sobs and gasps were being quieted down by his pleasured moans and groans. "I didn't know you were a virgin," Jesse's lust-laced voice husked into her ear. "How long have you and that idiot you call your husband been married by now? Almost a year? And he still hasn't fucked you? What an imbecile! Did he really believe that you would save it for him? That if he didn't give it to you, you wouldn't run off to someone else to get it? Such a dimwit!" His laughter boomed throughout that empty alleyway._

_Rachel knew Jesse was cruel, but not to what extent. This Jesse was cold and brutal, almost animal-like, a bloodthirsty beast in human guise. She herself was a virgin; she hadn't deemed Jesse worthy of taking her virtue, not even when they were pronounced man and wife in the eyes of God and men. But he was her husband and he had that right… But not anymore; Rachel would make sure that he wouldn't touch her, no matter what twisted marital right he thought he had over her. But she'd have to be careful; as she just witnessed, Jesse wouldn't think twice about raping her and the consequences that it could have would be sent straight to hell._

_She turned away from them, tears clearly visible in her eyes. She went back to the castle to make the proper arrangements. She didn't want to see Jesse's face or his reaction when he found out that they wouldn't be sharing a bed anymore. He'd want a reason, but she wouldn't give it to him. She'd just stand by her decision, and whatever happened, she'd take it in stride._

(End Flashback)

Rachel came back to the present, when a continuous rapping made itself known. She got off the bed and, putting on her robe over her nightgown, went to answer the bedroom door. She prayed the person behind her door wasn't Jesse; she just wasn't in the mood (not like she'd ever again be in the mood) to deal with him and whatever problem he thought she had.

'He's probably gonna stroll in here and demand that I give him a reason as to why I'm acting like this, and he's probably gonna throw in there something mentioning that he's my husband, and that as such, I should respect him,' she thought with a scoff that died on her lips when she saw who was at the door. She couldn't help the smile that illuminated her face on coming face to face with her best and oldest friend.

"NOAH!" She ran to hug him. He bent over so she could put her arms around him. Her small 5'2" frame was draped over his towering 6'4" wall of muscle. He smiled at her loud bout of recognition. He had missed that. "Oh my God! What are you doing here? How did you get here? Why didn't you tell me you were coming? Was it a surprise? Of course it was; that's why I'm only finding out about this now. Consider me surprised, and gladly so! I haven't seen you in so long. How's your mom? And your brother? And have you talked to my parents? How are they? Are they still having financial problems? Tell me so I can help them, in any way I can. It'll make me feel better!" She stopped to take a breath, and he smiled even wider. Her ramblings, he had also missed that even though they sometimes drove him up the walls.

"Rach, please, let me answer your questions one by one. Your parents are fine; my family helped them with the money issue. I talked to them before I had to leave, they sent hugs and kisses. My mom and my brother are fine, they miss you terribly though. They wished they could've come with me, but your parents needed them there." He explained, but when the meaning of what he told her caught up with her fuzzy mind, she raised an eyebrow in questioning.

They had moved further into Rachel's chamber, Puck closing the door behind him. She sat down on the bed looking at him, while he took in the spacious room, simultaneously avoiding her gaze. She waited for him to tell her on his own, but when he made no move to do so, she asked, "Noah, what do you mean 'you had to leave'? What happened?" She was thinking of the worst case scenario possible. The cold hand of dread grasped at her heart and squeezed.

He looked into her eyes, brimming with unshed tears, and sighed. "I got a letter, a couple of days ago. I didn't know who it was from, but it looked really fancy. Flowery script and what not. So I opened it, and imagine my surprise when I found out that it was from Jesse. In short," he summarized trying to make it sound like he was forced to be there, instead of having chosen to come, "he said you were having some problems and that he didn't know how to help you since you wouldn't talk to him about it. He emphasized his thoughts that, maybe, you needed a friend, and that you told him about us growing up together being almost like family, so I was the one he thought could help you," he finished, looking at her for a sign that showed him he had done the right thing. He found none, so he pressed, "So what's going on? What's this problem Jesse's talking about?" He questioned his pint-sized pseudo-sister.

He saw her tear-filled eyes look around the room, at everything else but him. Puck gently placed his hand on her cheek turning her head so she was looking at him. The unspoken question in his eyes was then answered with a broken whisper, "He's cheating on me." Puck couldn't believe what he was hearing: Jesse was the one to ask, practically beg, for Rachel's parents' blessings and, sometime afterwards, for her hand in marriage. And now, he was going around chasing skirts, even though he had a wife that could satisfy the same exact needs. Something didn't fit in the mind of one Noah Puckerman. He narrowed his eyes, and stared past Rachel's tear-stained face.

He spoke, barely-hidden rage lacing his voice, "He's cheating on you? Did he tell you that? Did you see him with another woman? What makes you think this, Rach?" He couldn't understand why he was asking Rachel all these questions, which he was sure made it seem like he didn't believe what she was telling him. Her widened eyes proved him right. "I… I saw him, with another girl, she wasn't a woman. I'm pretty sure she was somewhat younger than me." She couldn't help the waver in her voice, but kept on, nonetheless.

"He was… fucking her mouth, and spewing all these filthy phrases, saying how he and his big buddy would take care of her greedy cunt… I've never heard anything dirtier than what Jesse said," She looked up at him, and opened her arms in a silent invitation, a pout adorning her beautiful face. He easily took it, and swore to himself that Jesse would pay, by any means necessary, before his dutiful stay was over. He also remembered the second part of why he was there.

"Rach," he winced at how his voice broke when he spoke her name, "Um… there's more to my 'visit', if you want to call it that," he air-quoted 'visit'. He ran a hand through his short Mohawk, wondering how in the hell she would react to this new piece of information.

He decided to just tell her, straight out and, supposedly, painless. "Jesse has asked me to be the Admiral of the Fleet that will sail and anchor in the French region of La Rochelle. He has heard from who knows where that I'm a 'very good commanding officer' and he wants to help the refugees get away from the tyrant that is King Louis and His Eminence, Cardinal Richelieu. Or so he told me." He finished lamely. He averted his eyes, not wanting to know what disapproval looked like while coming from the closest thing he had to a sister.

He cringed when he saw the look in her eyes. Rachel had always been against violence, of any kind, and war, with all the bloodshed and death that accompanied it, was the thing she despised the most. That Puck had decided to go into the British Royal Navy when he came of age earned him Rachel's disapproval. That after two years of required service, he decided to go back home and help his family out put him back in Rachel's good graces. But this, this she couldn't approve of. And she voiced her opinion in true Rachel Berry fashion.

"What is wrong with you, Noah? Why would you engage in an altercation completely extraneous to you, at the insistence of my pig of a husband, no less? I swear, sometimes you can be so obtuse. How can you not see that bringing you here is just a contrivance for my husband to get back in my good graces? He didn't even plan on setting foot in La Rochelle, but now that you're here, he has to re-strategize and go through with what he said he was going to do." Rachel rambled, leaving Puck to try and make sense of the words he didn't know.

"Obtuse? Contrivance? Altercation? Extraneous? How does this girl know so many words? It's like she swallowed a dictionary when she was younger…" Puck internally shook his head, and tried to re-start his brain after it short-circuited due to Rachel-Berry-ramble-overload. "Listen, Rach, this is only to help the refugees out. As soon as King Louis get his army of musketeers out of and away from La Rochelle, all this is going to blow over, and I'll be back home helping my family. This is just temporary" Puck tried to make it less than what it truly was.

A knock at the door cut off whatever retort was coming out of her throat. She hadn't even answered when the door swung inwards, and Jesse stepped inside, his face an unreadable mask. He looked from Rachel's frown to Puck's reproached demeanor. Understanding stained his features, "I presume Noah already told you why he's here. Great, he cut my job in half. Noah, wait for me in my office, I'll be there momentarily." He ordered, not leaving room for Rachel to get a word in.

Puck sent Rachel a look that could be deciphered as being 'be careful' or 'save me', but Rachel didn't see it. Her chocolate gaze was nailed to her husband's icy stare. Standing straight, he bowed his head in Jesse's direction. "Sir" he intoned. He turned to Rachel, and repeated the action. "Madam" he breathed. He walked to the door, and in two strides, was out of the room.

The silence that befell the room could be cut with a plastic spoon, it was so palpable. Rachel could feel herself choking in her husband's presence. She wanted to spill everything to him, to yell that she knew he was being unfaithful, but she didn't want to give away her only weapon against him. She had already thought everything through; she knew how to play her cards the right way, ensuring that things would go like she planned. Once this was over, her marriage with Jesse would be annulled, and he would lose all of his possessions. All she had to do was wait for the right moment to present itself.

"I want you back in our marriage bed, tonight," he spoke, his words mingling with the bitterness simmering in her heart. She laughed, and his face broke into a sneer. "I don't know what you find so funny about this situation, Rachel. We're man and wife, it's only logical that we share a bed," she couldn't believe his audacity. First, he goes off and fucks another woman, and afterwards, he has the nerve to come to her and tell her she should sleep with him.

"You're delusional, Jesse. Now, leave. I'm sure Noah is starting to wonder where you are." She turns away from him, but a hand around her forearm spins her back around. His eyes hold a delirious glint, and she fears for the consequences of what she had said.

"You're my wife! You will do as I say, when I say it, without backtalk," he spat at her. Her rage overrode her senses and fueled her body. She pulled her arm out of his grasp, and slapped him as hard as she could. The impact on his face sent his head to the side, the bones in his neck cracking from the force exerted. She got in his face, "You don't own me, Jesse. I may be your wife, but I'm still my own person. I still make my own decisions. I reiterate, leave. Now!" she spoke, anger tainting her words.

He turned his head back to look at her, a stinging handprint adorning the side of his face. He scowled at her, turned on his heel and left without another word. The adrenaline gone from her body, she slumped on her bed, and putting her head on her hands, she breathed a sigh that was part relief, part anger, part fear. She set her head back, and looking at nothing in particular, thought of what to do next.

She knew she couldn't have a similar argument with him and expect it to go like this one had, with him leaving and her still in one piece. She knew his temper flared, especially with her; his belief that she was his property blinded him, and led him to act as if he could do with her as he pleased. She proved him wrong, time and again, and he was starting to lose his patience. She'd have to be more careful when around him.

She called up her chambermaid, Anna, and asked her to heat up some water for her bath. She needed more time to think without any interruptions. A few minutes later saw Anna walking into her mistress' chamber with the heated water and preparing her bath. Rachel let Anna go back to her other duties so she could be with her thoughts, undisturbed by any outside presences. Rachel had lots to think about; she didn't know that in the near future, all of her plans would take an incalculable turn, and her life would be forever changed.

* * *

><p><strong>Again, review. :)<strong>

**Leave me some comments and I'll send you telepathic bear hugs.**


	3. Countries at War

**Thanks to everyone**** who reviewed. It makes me really happy that you guys are taking the time to read this. For a reviewer that asked, and some others that are probably thinking the same thing: Brittany will make an appearance; I can't leave Santana by herself. **

**This is just a filler chapter; Quinn and Rachel will meet very soon. But there's quite a surprise for Rachel in this chapter.**

**Also, I'm trying to update as fast as I can, but I got a lot on my plate right now, so I'll update as soon as humanly possible.**

**That said, enjoy :)**

* * *

><p><em>Chartres, France - Quinn and Santana<em>

Packing a week's worth of clothes into a knapsack, Quinn and Santana were ready to set out to Paris. The girls' horses had been saddled since that morning and were waiting for the girls to finish their breakfast before making the four-day journey to the French capital. Quinn's stallion, Shadow, was true to his name.

From his mane to his pelt and his eyes, Shadow was a huge wall of black fur encasing powerful and well-trained muscles. Quinn had gotten him at the age of thirteen, when she got the idea to join the Musketeers. Russell got him and personally trained him for his little girl. He paid the utmost attention to Shadow, not wanting his little girl to get into an accident.

When Santana came into the picture, and he found out that she also wanted to be a Musketeer, he got another stallion and repeated the whole process of training him with a very critical eye, not leaving Santana to the stallion's chaotic temper. He specifically bought him with her in mind. 'These two seem made for each other,' Russell would complain when the stallion didn't do as he commanded.

Santana named her stallion appropriately: Spitfire. Spitfire was almost as tall as Shadow, and definitely as muscled as him. He had a low, but ill-tempered fire hiding behind his dark irises, and he had gone from trying to hurt Santana to being extremely protective of both her and, astonishing everyone, Quinn as well. He had a reddish-brown coat, but a white line of fur that went from the middle of his forehead, down between his eyes and covering his muzzle.

Inside the manor, Quinn and Santana were dressing up for four days out in the cold snow, open and vulnerable to the cruel bite of winter. Their robes were thick and concealed their newly-presented gifts, besides their body heat, of course. Dark hues kept them hidden at night, but made them stand out in the light of day.

Pants, breeches, ('Just in case we need them,' Quinn had made a reasonable point of taking two pairs of breeches each), corsets (because Lord knows no living, hot-blooded man will be able to take those pairs of perfect globes bouncing around God's green Earth... Besides, of course, to keep their figure), shirts, gloves, and, obviously enough, (but not to Santana, though), undergarments. All these made it into their knapsacks that would go strapped behind the saddle, along with some food and water (or wine, in Santana's case. Don't tell, though).

Quinn's sword in its scabbard and Santana's dagger in its sheath, both items tied to their respective owner's waist. The both of them knew all the routes from Chartres to Paris by heart and could run them blindfolded. Quinn already had the crossing towns they would run through on their way to the French capital. If they needed to stop for rest (either them or their horses) or food, both girls knew exactly what city was closest to their current location and would be able to get there in the shortest amount of time.

"Quinn. A moment." Russell got his daughter's attention and when he was sure that she had heard him, he turned on his heel and walked towards his study. "Close the door behind you, please." Quinn did as asked and stood behind the chair in front of her father's desk, a pose that Russell mimicked on the opposite side of the desk. He sighed, and nailed his eyes on the girl before him. A sad smile made its way onto his face.

"It's finally time... Quinn, I didn't want to give you this in front of your mother, since she's probably jump to conclusions about it, but I felt like I had to give it to you before you left. When I was a Musketeer, there was one time that I was so close to death, I could taste its bitterness on my tongue long before anything had happened, but I believe God planned for me to be saved so I could pass this Wonder onto the child that would follow my footsteps, or the one I deemed would be in danger's path more often than not. Since you were a tiny thing running around the Manor with nothing but a smile, I've always known it was going to be you that would inherit this Wonder from me." He paused, reigning in his emotions.

His red-rimmed eyes were bloodshot and held a sheen of pride that filled Quinn's heart with joy and a sense of accomplishment. He licked his dry lips before continuing, "This is the Wonder I talk about," he drew a hand to his pocket and pulled out a small, opaque, silvery white stone that seemed to shine from the inside. It was smaller than all the showy gems her mother had; it was about the same size as her big toe when she had been 7 years old. She looked at her father, "I found this stone while I was alone in the dark forests of Renne, and soon after I found it, I was ambushed by some of the enemy troops. I managed to run away and lose them, and then find some of my comrades and plan a counterattack. Since that time, I haven't gone to battle without it. You may think your old father a fool for believing in talismans and charms, but I feel like I should give this to you, to keep you safe, to keep you alive. You may not believe in it, but once you witness its powers, you'll have no other option but to trust it. I trust it to keep my baby girl safe, and so, I want you to have it. Never leave it out of your sight, and always take it to battle with you. It may be the one thing that saves you from the cold claws of death like it did me." He extended his hand and pushed the stone onto her outstretched, open palm. The feel of the stone surprised her: despite its jagged edges, the stone was smooth all around and it was warm, almost hot, but Quinn concluded that it must be because it had been in her father's pocket.

She put it in her own pocket, and walking towards her father, she wrapped her arms around his waist, pulling herself into his body, trying to convey all the love she felt for her father, silently thanking him for shaping her the way she was, and, deep down in her heart, hugging him for what may be the last time. He wrapped his own arms around her smaller frame and hugged her tight, not wanting to let go, but knowing he had to at some point.

Quinn pulled away from their warm cocoon, and closed her hazel irises, fighting tears when she felt the man that had given her everything kiss her softly on the forehead. She took a shaky breath, "I love you, dad," her voice broke at the end, and the flood gates came crashing down. Tears ran down her cheeks in rivulets, lightly caressing her soft ivory skin. She managed to stop her tears at will and laughed lightly, "Santana's going to have a field day if, and when, she finds out I broke down during our goodbye." she hiccupped, and sighed deeply. "Goodbye, dad." she gave him one last, brave, although shaky, smile and turning on her heel, she walked out of the study and to her new life as a Musketeer.

Santana noticed her puffy eyes, but said nothing. The two of them sat regally astride their horses, and grabbing a hold of the reins, turned their horses towards the road that will undoubtedly lead the two of them to Paris. They knew it would take days to get there because of the cold weather and snowy/icy ground, but they were risking much less now than they would later.

* * *

><p><em>Carlisle, England - Rachel<em>

After her bath, Rachel dressed in one of her own robes (she didn't want Jesse to think she had changed her mind so fast). _He'll probably go celebrate with yet another hussy that will give it to him without a second thought, _Rachel thought with a sneer twisting her beautiful features.

She sat in front of her mirror, absentmindedly brushing her chocolate locks, thinking about her future, both if she were to leave Jesse to his adulterous ways and try to make it on her own, or the other option, which didn't suit with her very well: stay with him and try to look past all the bad things that he had wrong with him. _But that's a LOT to look past; anymore and I'll have to just stop looking at him altogether, _her logic reasoned with her.

She huffed and stood up abruptly, almost tipping the chair over. She slammed the brush down, and, with a loud _THWACK! _preceding her, she left the room. She made her way down to the dining hall, but upon entering, she was stopped short when she noticed Jesse whispering hurriedly to Noah, Sam Evans (the Cavalry Captain) and Finn Hudson (the Infantry Lieutenant). She was only able to catch words such as _'damned French', 'tyranny', 'dethrone Louis and the Cardinal', 'invincible Musketeers', 'women in ranks'..._

"Milady Rachel, we were expecting you 45 minutes ago. If you don't mind my asking, what kept you so long?" William, one of their servers, had materialized beside her and had, unknowingly, given away her eavesdropping location. She turned and glared, William backing away as she did so. The heads of all four strategizing men pulled back, looking up at her.

The smile that Jesse plastered on his face was so obviously fake it made her wonder how in the world it had fooled her. Sam, Finn and Noah were all standing ramrod straight, their feet together, chests puffed out and their arms rigidly at their sides. Their heads were set so they looked straight ahead of them, jaws clenched and at one voice, they spoke, "Milady!" and bowed their heads in respect.

"Rach! I was getting really worried when you didn't come down at your usual breakfast time. I had hoped that we could eat together, and maybe talk about what has been going on between us. I know that this probably would be better if we were alone, but I really can't hold it in any longer," Jesse's dramatic pause was as artificial as their marriage; it had no depth, but even then, everyone was hanging onto his every word.

Knowing he had them where he wanted them, he exhaled and finished, "I want us to have a baby. I know that with everything that's going on with the _French..._" he explained, spitting out 'French' like it was a bad taste on his tongue and it wasn't lost on her that she was about to be dragged into a bigger dilemma than her own with Jesse.

She tuned back in to hear what he was saying, "...I know it has been your dream since our _interrupted_ honeymoon for me to impregnate you while we make sweet love, and then giving birth to our love child. And I think now is the time to start thinking about that..." while he talked, he had gotten closer to her, forcefully grabbing her waist while softly grabbing her hand.

Rachel took this opportunity to get him to tell her what, exactly, are three of his commanding officers in the manor. It's not rare that they're there, but it's unusual when it's _three of them, at the same time._ "Um, Jesse, that's a conversation for another time... Why, though, are Noah, Sam and Finn here? And what's the deal with the French?" she fired one query after another. Jesse looked unsure on whether to tell her about the no-doubt upcoming war between England and France, but the decision was soon out of his hands.

Sam spoke up for Jesse, "King Louis has been on a war path since the rumors that Queen Anne has been having an affair with the Duke of Buckingham started. There are some French Protestant refugees in the region of La Rochelle that are being forced to either convert to Catholicism or be killed by King Louis' dragonnades. The Duke wants us to help them out against Louis and the Cardinal, so we're here to... talk... str-strategies..." Sam trailed off when he spotted the murderous glare he was being given by Jesse.

Jesse stopped looking at Sam and turned to Rachel, "It's nothing you need to concern yourself about, love," he ignored the very visible wince from Rachel at the term of endearment, "All you need to concern yourself about is preparing your body for when it'll bear our child." _More like your spawn,_ Rachel mentally corrected him.

"Sir," the talking tower that was Finn started to say, "what should we do about the women rumored to be part of the Musketeers? We can't kill women, it's wrong..."

"Listen here, Hudson," Jesse quickly cut him off, "I don't a give a damn if they have kids in their ranks; they're all Musketeers, they will die..." as he had expected, Rachel turned on her heel and left saying she would take her breakfast in her chambers. He waited a few seconds before he continued, "...but if they're fuckable enough, just capture them and bring them in. Alive," he finished and left the dining hall, also ordering breakfast to be sent to his room.

The three military men left in the dining hall looked anxiously at each other, before Noah spoke quietly, "If the rumors are true, God knows what will happen to those women if Jesse gets his hands on them. Rachel told me that he's cheating on her, that she witnessed him raping a girl... We can't let that happen; enemies or not, these are _women_. If either of you two can call yourselves men, you will back me on this. _We shall not let Jesse hurt them_." The fire in his eyes was telling enough; Puck will stand in between Jesse and these women and lose his life were it necessary. Both Sam and Finn exchanged glances, and looking at their mohawked friend, both nodded solemnly._  
><em>

* * *

><p><strong>Shorter than the last two, I know. But... Didn't you guys just love Puck, Sam and Finn? :)<strong>

**I know you're hating on me for what I did with Jesse, but trust me on this. This is good stuff...**

**Reviews make me happy, hate on me if you feel so inclined, but do it with a smile :)**


	4. Worlds Collide

**Here is chapter 4. It will seem rushed, but I needed to get it moving. I was kinda surprised that I didn't get that many reviews this time, but for those who did, you made me smile. :)**

**Spoilers for next chapter are: Rachel and Quinn meet formally, Jesse's a dick (not unusual), and humiliation... Lots of heartbreaking humiliation**

**All mistakes are mine, cause I'm a lazy ass that doesn't like to check for errors. Feel free to point them out...**

**Anyhow, enjoy. :)**

* * *

><p><em>Paris, France<em>

After an unprecedented six days of being on the road, Quinn and Santana were deliriously happy to be in the City of Lights, and after going to a bed and breakfast to put down their stuff, they got ready for their audience with M. de Tréville and his stern second-in-command, Mme. Sylvester.

They had heard the stories about the cold, blonde and blue-eyed right hand of the Musketeers. She had been the first woman admitted into the prestigious ranks of the Musketeers, and she ruled beside Tréville with an iron fist. Rumors were that Musketeer prospects, especially women, had to best her in battle in order to guarantee a spot in the lower ranks, at least. They had to be the best in order to make it in the higher ranks.

They got to the Musketeers' Headquarters, and, after taking a necessary deep breath and curtly nodding at each other, both girls made their way into the building. What they saw inside left them astounded; a circle of blue-coated Musketeers had been formed around two people that were deep in battle. Both fighters were tall, lean, fair-skinned, blonde and blue-eyed... women. One of them, the older of the two, wore the blue Musketeer coat with the silver-trimmed white cross, black breeches and black boots. The other, much younger, wore dirtied beige breeches, mud-caked working boots, and a white work shirt.

Both heads were turned towards each other. The Musketeer showed nothing but steely determination, while her opponent had a small grin on her face, her eyes betraying nothing. Quinn felt more than heard Santana's sharp intake of breath, and turned slightly to see her pseudo-sister staring at the youngest of the two blondes as if she were the only person in this world that mattered to her. "Who is that? Quinn, I've _got_ to meet her. She's... she's... she's an angel. I... I got to... at least get her name!" Santana was bumbling and tripping over her words.

Quinn mentally snickered at the love-struck look on Santana's face, "Tana, if you wanna meet her, you might want to breathe. That way, you'll be alive for when she talks to you," Quinn stopped her teasing at the glare that was shot her way from a pair of dark eyes.

They continues to watch the duel, and they were amazed at the amount of skill that the girl possessed. The Musketeer herself was having trouble keeping up with the thrusts and jabs sent her way, while the girl made it look like child's play. She thrust and recoiled with a speed and agility that was almost snake-like. The mysterious blonde moved so fast, it was a wonder that her opponent was keeping up at all.

All of a sudden, a voice boomed throughout the hall, dispersing the crowd that had formed, "ENOUGH!" They all turned to see a man, obviously M. de Tréville, walking down the stairs with an air about him that crackled with authority. The serenity this man exuded was a stark contrast to the fear that he imposed. His eyes were endless pools of black, and they showed no emotion as he looked over his Musketeers and the three girls stepped out from the group of soldiers. By then, M. de Tréville had already seen them, and could guess accurately enough what they were doing there.

His deep, booming voice echoed in the hall, "The English are almost upon us, and all of you are sitting here, on your asses, watching an admittedly good spar. You should be out making sure that those accursed English dirt bags are not contaminating our streets with their offensive presence," he reprimanded, while looking at his Musketeers.

He turned his eyes from the blue coats to the trio standing off to the side. His eyes scrutinized their faces, commuting them to memory. "You three," he gesticulated at them with a slight movement of his wrist, "come with me," he ordered. Turning on his heel, he didn't wait for them to follow his orders, trusting them to know what was good for them.

The three girls followed him, silently. Quinn had taken Santana's right side, leaving the mysterious blonde on Santana's left. The hazel-eyed blonde could see Santana sweating lightly, the cause for her nervousness the ethereal being on her left. Quinn rolled her eyes good-naturedly and the hidden corner of her lips pulled up in a half grin.

They entered M. de Tréville's office, and stood, shoulder to shoulder, in front of his desk. He sat down on the big chair opposite the girls, and rummaged through some papers on the desk. With a triumphant exclamation, he pulled a piece of stationery, the calligraphy written upon it curvy and elegant. He then raised his tunnel-like eyes to Santana and Quinn, and with a raised eyebrow, he prompted, "Well? Do you have anything that might give me a clue as to who you two are?" Santana understood what he meant, and she pulled out the letter from M. Fabray.

Handing it to him, she looked at Quinn, who was conspicuously looking from her to the gorgeous angel and back, a small smile playing at her lips. Santana rolled her eyes playfully, and a love-struck grin found its place on her face. The both of them turned back to M. de Tréville, who was done reading their letter and had a pensive mask that carved his features.

"Fabray? Both of you?" he asked them, and at their nod, he continued, "You're Russell's little girl, aren't you?" he directed the query at Quinn, who nodded once, her bangs fluttering on her forehead. "And you're the little Spaniard he took in," it was a statement, not a question, but Santana answered him with a respectful, 'Yes, sir'. He nodded his head lightly, and looking now at the other blonde, he questioned, "How well do you speak French, young lady?" His eyes held no contempt, and so she answered in perfect French, "My family is originally French, sir, but I was born in Switzerland,"

Santana's breath caught in her throat; this angel's voice was clear and melodic, as if chiming crystal bells had been created just for the sole purpose of being placed in this girl's pale throat. M. de Tréville thought it well to make introductions. "Quinn, Santana, this is Brittany Pierce. Brittany, these are Quinn Fabray and Santana Lopez." He sat back and regarded the female trio. "You three want the same thing, and that is to join the ranks of and become Musketeers," he paused, his brow furrowing and adding a severe pressure of urgency.

He looked at them, their anxiety rising with each passing second, "We need man-power, or woman-power if you prefer. I'm not... The Musketeers, and the King, are not in any position to turn away anyone that wants to help us defeat the filth that has invaded our country. Quinn, I know your father; he and I fought side-by-side on several occasions. This letter says that you've inherited his swordsman skills; therefore I don't see a reason to test you. And Santana, you've been training with this one for a long time, I assume. You're in, no need to see proof. And Brittany, you kept up fairly well with my right hand woman, an almost impossible feat. Congratulations, the three of you are now in the prestigious ranks of the King's Musketeers." he announced, the ghost of a smile quirking his lips and making his eyes crinkle at the corners.

Although none of the girls showed it, internally they were all howling joyfully at the fact that they had made it. The girls all thanked M. de Tréville, who called for Mme. Sylvester to be sent up to his office. A few minutes later, the older blonde stepped in after announcing herself. "You called for me, sir?" her voice was softer than what any of the had imagined it would be. They all thought it would be loud, like M. de Tréville's, or that it would have more of a bite than it actually did. But neither prediction was true; they still had to be careful, they didn't know which rumors were true and which ones were false.

"Yes, Mme. I called for you. I need you to have the tailor make three Musketeer coats, one for each of these girls. I also need your aid for them to get everything else they might need; boots, breeches, weapons. The works. You know what to do," he dismissed them with a wave of his hand and for back to his papers. The three newest Musketeers followed Mme. Sylvester down the stairs and out of the building. They followed her all the way to another building, in which she entered and called for a man by the name of Hummel.

Out came a very elegant man, dressed in dark breeches, shiny black shoes and a crisp white shirt. His dark blonde hair perfectly combed and kept, not a hair out of place. They spoke in hushed tones, every once in a while looking or gesticulating at the girls standing in the foyer. "Yes, yes, Mme. Sylvester. I can do that. Yes, by tonight they'll be ready," he thoroughly assured her. He walked over to them, paper and pencil in hand.

He stood in front of Santana first, and he walked around her, lightly moving her limbs, carefully patting down her clothes, and making notes on the paper. Every once in a while, he would lock eyes with Sylvester and raise an unbelieving eyebrow. Sylvester would shake her head every time he did this. He finished Santana's measurements and stood in front of Brittany next. As Quinn saw him repeat the measuring process, she started to get anxious. She couldn't have this man find out about her secret.

She watched in terrified silence as M. Hummel finished with Brittany's measurements, and turned to her. They locked eyes, and he turned to look at Mme. Sylvester. The nod she gave was so small, that Quinn would've missed it if she hadn't been paying attention. Sylvester spoke to Santana, "Lopez, take Pierce here and go back to Headquarters. Ask for Pierre Leblanc, and tell him you need rooms. He'll know what to do; if he gives you crap, just tell him I said so and you'll be fine. Then send him to find and tell M. de Tréville to come here as fast as possible." she ordered, and Santana nodded, knowing why Brittany and her were being sent away.

She wrapped her hand around Brittany's wrist and, ignoring the jolt of electricity that sparked at the touch, tugged her gently to the exit of the building and towards Headquarters. After they left, nobody spoke until, a few minutes later, M. de Tréville walked in and, bypassing Quinn, went straight to Mme. Sylvester and M. Hummel, who were again speaking in hushed tones. Quinn's trained eye caught M. Hummel gesticulating towards his crotch area. _So that's what this commotion is all about, _she thought, _they're talking about my buddy._

The three adults turned and faced Quinn, who was standing ramrod straight, with her hands behind her back and a stony expression painting her face. M. de Tréville spoke up, "Quinn, in the letter your father addressed to me, there was more than just your expressed wishes to become Musketeers. There was also a secret that your father had me swear to take to my grave. This is the matter of your body and its development. He asked us, Mme. Sylvester and me, to keep your secret a secret and to treat you as we would anybody else. Your breeches will have to be tailor made, to hide your... sword," he flushed from the tip of his ear to his jawline.

She just nodded and held her hand up to stop him from further embarrassment. Neither had noticed that while they had their talk, M. Hummel had already started working on the coats and Quinn's breeches. By the time they had finished, he was done and his pride showed on his handsome face. "Done by tonight, my ass. If you work diligently, you can be done in a matter of minutes," he proudly exclaimed.

"Yes, that and the fact that you have a mountain of halfway done coats in the back of your shop. All you need to do is silver-trim the crosses on the chest." Sylvester smirked, knowing she had one-upped the tailor, whose cheeks flushed a pretty rosy hue. He huffed as the three Musketeers laughed, and he angrily handed the finished coats and two pairs of breeches to Quinn, who accepted them gladly.

M. de Tréville took two coats, and went to HQ to find Santana and Brittany. Sylvester left right after him, and Quinn brought up the rear. As soon as she stepped into the building though, a horn was blown, emitting a sharp, loud wail that had everyone frozen in seconds. All at once, doors and windows slammed shut, and the Musketeers were running out of HQ and rushing towards the gates of Paris.

Too late they heard the thumping of running hooves and the yells that spoke in foreign tongues. Quinn turned her head to the left, and she spotted big stallions with armed soldiers on their backs. She unsheathed her rapier, and running towards the horse, she sidestepped it and shoved her blade into the open side of the rider. The rider slumped and fell to the ground, the earth absorbing his life source.

The other Musketeers followed her example, and soon the ground was littered with bodies; some still alive, some already dead, and some somewhere in between. She couldn't see Santana and Brittany, but she couldn't stop fighting and look for them. _I will as soon as this is over,_ she thought, thrusting her rapier into and through another soldier's body. He slumped on her blade, and she used his gun to fire at another Englishman, but a sharp pain to the head had her knees buckling underneath her. The ground got closer and closer to her face, and as soon as she felt the moist soil underneath her cheek, her world went black.

_4 days later_

_Quinn_

She's shackled and chained in a ship. Her wrists are sore and raw from the iron rubbing against her skin. She has her clothes on, and her boots, but her rapier had been taken away. She felt for her neck, and sighed in relief when she felt the cross pendant that her mother had given her.

She wonders where Santana and Brittany are, if they're okay, if they survived the English ambush. She wonders about the rest of the Musketeers, Mme. Sylvester, M. de Tréville... _I hope they're fine, _she internally sighs, and ponders what's gonna happen to her.

She takes a deep breath. She could smell the saltwater, she hears the lapping of the waves against the sides of the boat, she hears the call of the seagulls, flying about the mast over the ocean, looking for food. She envies them; while they're flying a couple of hundred feet above the ocean, she's a prisoner in a ship that she, accurately, guesses must be English. She hasn't eaten in days; her stomach juices search for nourishment and, when they find none, they start to disintegrate the fat stored in her body. She can't keep her eyes open much longer. As the ship docks, her world fades to black once more.

* * *

><p><em>Rachel<em>

She saw them bring her in; a pale, weak, gorgeous blonde angel. She feels a flutter in her stomach that has nothing to do with the fact that said angel wears a blue coat with the white, silver-trimmed cross emblazoned in her chest. There's no doubt about it; the rumors were true. King Louis had admitted women into the ranks of his Musketeers. She feels nausea coming on at the blood still pouring from an open head wound, and her heart shatters when Jesse's lackeys carry the unconscious blonde down to the dungeons.

"Wait!" her voice was shrill, and she noticed it breaking. The lackeys stopped on their tracks and she caught up to them. Something shiny catches her eye, and she brings her hand to it. It's a simple gold cross pendant. She turns it over, and she sees the name. _Fabray, _she internally rolls the name around her tongue, liking the sound of it. She carefully takes the pendant off, and sends the lackeys on their merry way.

_I'll have to find more about this mysterious Fabray girl, _is her last thought before she sees the pale beauty disappear down the stairs. He spied Jesse talking to one of his most trusted henchmen, Felton Williams. He seemed to be very excited, his arms waving wildly in the air and the muscles of his face pulled taut by the exaggerated facial gestures he was doing.

He kept pointing towards the ship and back to the castle, and then made a downward motion with his hand, like something..._ _descending. He's talking about that girl that his lackeys just brought in._ _She kept gazing at them, trying to decipher what the hand motions meant. Her eyes widened,_ _did he just...? __She forcefully inhaled; Jesse was crudely thrusting his hips, his hands grasping nothing but air, his head tilted back and his mouth open in a silent...__ Scream? Moan? Oh, my God, he's talking about fucking that Fabray girl... NO! I won't let him touch her. Over my dead body.__ She huffed turned on her heel, and stalked back into the castle, leaving behind a raucous laughter._  
><em>

* * *

><p><strong>Why is Rachel protective all of a sudden?<strong>

**We're not gonna be seeing much of Brittana for pretty much the rest of the story, since this is Faberry-centric**

**Again, reviews make me happy... and possibly update faster ;)**


	5. Taken Prisoner

**Chapter 5 is up! There's a lot of... stuff going on in this chapter. Quinn gets a new ally, and new discoveries will be made. Special Faberry interaction, what will happen? Gotta keep up with the Faberry family. Things are picking up speed...**

**My birthday, and Christmas, is coming up, so I might feel nice enough to update a little faster.**

**Enjoy :)**

* * *

><p>Waking up in a dungeon, arms and legs chained to the floor, and at the doors of death was not what Quinn had in mind when she decided to join the Musketeers. She had thought her life would be filled with adventures, sword fights, strategies, and damsels in distress. <em>And so far, it hasn't lived up to my expectations... <em>She sighed deeply, which turned out to be a bad thing for her lungs were filled to the brim with a delicious aroma wafting in through the bars of her cell.

Her mouth watered and her stomach grumbled, and she cursed it for making her appear weak. The guard standing a couple of feet away from her cell heard the rumbling of her empty belly, and snickering, walked up to her cell, "Oh, is the little French whore hungry? I have something that will fill you right up!" he exclaimed as his hands made their way to his belt.

Her eyes widened when she caught on to what he meant. She started backing away from her cell door as he started walking towards it. His hands still pawing at his belt, he grinned maliciously, but the soft sound of footsteps stopped him from doing anything else besides untying the leather strap holding his pants up. Both of them looked to the stone staircase, where, in a matter of seconds, a dark figure appeared.

The silhouette of Jesse St. James scared Quinn for an instant, but when she saw who it was, her rage came back to her like a swinging sledgehammer. Trying, and failing, to shoot up to her feet, Quinn's knees slammed back down onto the solid rock, her face twisted into a snarl. Jesse's bemused countenance did nothing but add insult to injury, and Quinn's murderous hazel glare turned darker. "Open the cell, Roman," he ordered the guard, who reached into his left pocket and pulled out a set of keys.

He grabbed one between his pudgy fingers, and inserting it into the keyhole, turned it slightly until a click was heard. He pulled it out and the door swung outward. Jesse strutted in, his arrogant aura flaring under the authority he possessed, and he smirked down at Quinn. "Let's see if what they say about French women is true," he walked towards her, and pushing down on her shoulder with his boot, he kneeled down beside her. He whispered into her ear, his hot breath like poison gas, "I can see the fire in your eyes, and I can't wait for you to bring it out while I fuck you," he stated, his tongue licking a slippery trail on her neck.

Holding back a disgusted shiver, she wanted to laugh at him. _Obviously, they don't know what my extra part, _she thought humorlessly. She felt his hand make its way from its place beside his body, to her neck, rough fingertips much like her own, prodding at it. _Does he even know how to caress a woman?_ She didn't voice the question in her head, but rather focused on holding down the bile that burned at her throat as his hand traveled down to squeeze and paw at her right breast. She didn't give him the satisfaction of hearing her yelp in pain, but she pales when his hand continued down, skipping her abs and going straight to her crotch.

Two pairs of eyes widened simultaneously; Quinn, for her secret was out, and Jesse, because he felt something that wasn't supposed to be there. His eyes nailed themselves onto hers, and, setting his jaw, he roughly pulled down her breeches. He sneered at the massive 10 and 1/2 inch penis that laid before his very eyes.

He looked back up, and smirked. He called to the guard, "Roman, bring me a small pair of breeches," he commanded, his eyes never leaving Quinn's. The guard ambled up to Jesse's standing figure, and asked, "How small do you want them, boss?" Jesse's smirk turned even darker as he easily replied, "About the same size of young Eli." Roman nodded his head and stumbled his way back to the staircase. Jesse and Quinn continued to glare at each other in silence that was ever so softly broken by the chirping of the crickets.

A few minutes passed until they heard the tell-tale sound of heavy footsteps coming down the steps. Jesse walked backwards, never taking his eyes off of Quinn, even though she could do nothing to him, being chained to the floor and all that. He extended his hand, and the soft flutter of cloth being handed was the only thing that filled the tense silence.

He kneeled once again and, gripping both sides of the breeches, he pulled with all his might and the sound of ripping fabric along with a shocked yell filled the cavernous dungeons. He threw the ruined breeches to the side. "Roman, get over here," the ogre-like guard stumbled over and knelt beside Jesse. "Unshackle her left foot but _don't let it go._ We can't give her any chance to fight and have her run away," he looked back at Quinn as Roman did as he ordered.

Quinn looked on in terror as the two men put her in the tight pair of breeches. The breeches hugged her hips and outlined the shape of her dormant dick. "If you know what's good for you, you'll keep these on at all times. I'm not a person you want to play with, you little slut." He roughly grabbed her cheeks and squeezed painfully. He leaned in and whispered into her ear, "It's too bad that you have an extra appendage; you're very beautiful and I would have _loved _to fuck you until the early hours of the morning, but, oh, well. At least I'll get some satisfaction out of having ridiculed you," he finished with a forceful peck on the cheek, and, standing up, he left without another word. Quinn held her rage-filled tears until both him and the guard had left, slamming the door of her cell shut.

The next day, Quinn was pulled out of a troubled slumber by a sharp kick to the ribs. Rolling into her stomach and grabbing her injured side, she held in a pained groan as a gruff voice told her to 'get up'. She did and the chains that held her to the floor were released. With lightning fast reflexes, Quinn managed to drive her foot deep into the guard's gut, making him double over. She chambered her leg and released it on the side of his head, effectively knocking him out.

She grabbed the key from the iron loop he had it on. She quickly unlocked the shackles on her wrists and ankles and, closing the door, she stealthily ran to the stars. Quietly, she made her way up and was led into a torch-lit hallway. Crouching so she wouldn't be seen easily, she kept her head up, looking out for escape routes or enemies that she would need to take out. The breeches she had on we're rubbing against her penis in a rough manner, but she couldn't just take them off and streak around this place. _I'm a Fabray and I have dignity, _she thought and grimaced when the cloth made friction against the sensitive head of her dick.

Coming up on a well-lit staircase that let out onto a domed chamber, Quinn looked around and when she didn't see anyone, she decided to make a run for it. Her legs pumped and her feet hit the cold marble floor. She crossed onto another hallway where a huge portrait caught her eye. It was a woman; tan, with long chestnut hair, deep chocolate pools for eyes, delicious-looking red, plump lips, a slender neck, defined collarbones and high cheekbones. _Lord almighty, you've created an angel that roams the Earth in human guise, _she mentally praised.

"HEY! YOU, GET BACK HERE!" a voice came from somewhere on her right. She turned left and ran as if the devil were on her heels. She turned right, then right, then left hoping to lose them somewhere along the way. She slowed down and turned around, slowly making her way backwards. As she heard hurried footstep approaching, her eyes widened and she turned and ran straight into someone. Falling on her butt, she didn't have enough time to notice who it was, before...

"A thousand apologies, I didn't see... you... there," a soft melodic voice, obviously female, made her look up and into familiar pools of melted chocolate. _The angel from the portrait!_ Her mind screamed at her to say something, anything to this beautiful being in her presence. She turned onto her knees, without breaking eye contact. "You... You're gorgeous. You're ethereally celestial. How can I, a mere and simple mortal, be allowed in the presence of someone as magnificent, as radiant, as yourself," her whispered words of praise were heard clearly by this woman.

A small smile etched itself on the angel's face, her cheeks heating up with a blush. "Thank you," was the uttered response. _This Fabray girl looks at me as if I were the brightest star in all of the galaxy._ "What's your name, stranger?" she asked shyly.

"I'm..." Quinn started but didn't get to finish before she was roughly grabbed by her shoulders, pulling her backwards and onto her back. She struggled against her captors, and she could faintly ear a voice yelling to 'let her go!' She managed to shake one hand off her arm and she swiped at whomever was closer to her. Her nails caught skin and pulled harshly, tearing a bloodcurdling scream from the throat of whomever she had clawed at.

She was turned onto her stomach, and restrained by a person of slender frame, but it was painfully obvious he was male. He was sitting on the back of her thighs with his legs pushing out against her own, and his hands holding onto her wrists. She kept on struggling, and snarling out French curses. She could taste liquid copper on her tongue, and she spat out blood.

"Jesse, tell your _lackeys _to let her go. Now!" The tiny woman had a nice set of lungs on her. She was glaring daggers at Jesse, who only chuckled before answering, "Rachel, sweetheart, I'm gonna let her go... on the fields, so she learns to respect her superiors." He jeered. Rachel rolled her eyes, and looked at the writhing blonde with something akin to reverence, but why would she feel like that minutes after meeting the girl? _It's probably because having Jesse treat her in such a bad manner reminds me of the girl he abused. Yeah, that must be it, _she reasoned.

She could do nothing but observe as the mysterious girl was half-carried, half-dragged out of the sitting room, and out to the fields. She started to cross over to the balcony that oversaw the fields when a had roughly grabbed her upper arm, and brusquely pulled her into a broad and muscled frame. "What do you think you're doing, Rachel? Huh? She's a French Musketeer, a blue-coated prick that goes around killing people because they don't agree with what their King says or does or thinks," Jesse spat with venom, "I don't think that associating with people such as _her _will do us any good."

During his tirade, Rachel had maneuvered her arm into a position from which she could escape easily. Pulling her arm free of his commandeering grasp, she looked him in the eye and furiously whispered back to him, "She's a human being, Jesse. She comes from a different part of the world that will surely have different sets of customs and traditions. You surely don't expect everything to be like England... Do you?" Rachel was afraid that she had unknowingly married a small-minded adulterer, with an overinflated ego to boot. She sighed in frustration and turned to leave, but hearing Jesse begin to speak found a way to stop her on her tracks.

"Rach... Please, don't do this. Look, I don't know what's happened between us to make you turn against me like this, but having her here is just a temporary mishap. When we find out what the French are planning to do, I can easily have her rid of and we can go back to being husband and wife. For now, I want you to have no contact with her whatsoever. Okay?" He leant in to kiss her, but she turned away from him. He roughly grabbed her chin and pulled her head around. He slanted his mouth over hers, and kissed her passionately, or as passionate as someone without a heart could muster to be.

He let her go, and, turning, he left the sitting room. Picking up a napkin, Rachel wiped her lips of the sloppy evidence of his 'kiss', if it could even be called that. She moved to the balcony, and her eyes drank in the sight of firm, flexing sinewy muscles under a white shirt damp with sweat. From her vantage point in the balcony, Rachel could see how the loose piece of fabric flung to the Musketeer's torso, showing off a nicely toned midriff with chiseled abs, and rippling back and shoulder muscles. The breeches also clung to round and shapely butt cheeks, tensing quads and hamstrings, and strong calves.

But something looked strange about this girl; _what could it be, though?_ Her eyes kept roaming at a slower pace the tight body of the French soldier. She looked extremely close at her pants. _Oh my God, _her thoughts raced at the sight, _she's even bigger than Jesse. Oh, God, what am I thinking? I'm married and I just met this girl. I should not be thinking about having her under me, over me, inside of me, pounding away. Jesus, that thought alone just made me wet. _She was brought out of her sexual thoughts by a feeling of being watched. She looked slowly about and... A striking pair of hazel eyes held her own chocolate orbs.

She looked away, heat making its way over her cheeks. She quietly cleared her throat and turned away, very aware that a hazel stare was still upon her. She made her way to the dining room, wanting something to quench an all too sudden thirst. Her mind's eye flickered with the image of hazel eyes and soft but unyielding muscles.

* * *

><p><em>Quinn<em>

She was dragged out of the sitting room by that asshole's brutes. She struggled but could do nothing to get herself free. They dragged her out onto the fields behind the castle, and they left her under the eye of a blond man, with lips so big, they looked swollen.

"I'm Sam, I am to watch over you while you're out here in the fields. Don't worry, I'm not gonna hurt you; in fact, I'm gonna try to help you as much as I can. One thing you gotta know is: Lord Jesse rewards those who serve him right, it matters not where they come from or how they got here. Some friends and I have a plan to get you outta here, but you gotta be willing to play the part. You understand?" Quinn nodded her affirmation, and Sam kept rambling about this plan they had.

She couldn't help herself, she had to ask, "Hey, Sam?" She got his attention, knew she couldn't play this off as anything else. She asked, "Who... who is that... that woman? The pretty one standing on the balcony?" She specified.

Sam smiled slightly, and dropped his head. "That is the lady of the castle, Lady Rachel Berry. She's Lord Jesse's wife, even though between the two of them there's absolutely nothing going on. It's rumored that since Lady Rachel won't give in to Lord Jesse's advances, Lord Jesse has been getting it from somewhere, or someone, else." He confided, straightening back up. "You're not the first one, and you won't be the last one, to fall prey to Lady Rachel's ethereal beauty. It's always the first thing people fall for; if the contact is repeated constantly, the next thing to fall for is her unadulterated charm and wit, and the last and always the most beautiful to fall for, is her heart. This is when you fall completely and utterly in love with her. This is when you know you'll give everything for her, even yourself," he looks sorrowful, unshed tears glistening at the corners of his eyes.

Quinn's curiosity won the best of her, "Are you speaking from experience? Did _you _fall in love with her?" Her question is whispered, almost wary in the way it was uttered. Sam nodded slowly, wiping his eyes softly with his fingers. "It's kind of impossible not to. She has like a gravitational pull that grasps at your heart and tugs you towards her. You can't stop it; you can't change it. You go with it, and if she doesn't return your affections, you settle for the next best thing which is being her friend, her confidant, her advisor. And that's what I am; that's what I settled for." He looked at her, and smiling amusedly, and walking towards a small shed, he opened the door and grabbed something.

Walking back to where Quinn was now standing, he handed her the object he had grabbed: a shovel. Quinn looked at it and arched a blonde eyebrow, "A shovel? What am I supposed to do with it?" She asked, taking it form his outstretched hand. He smiled again, "Lord Jesse wants a 100 x 250 square feet of overturned soil for farming. He ordered for it to be done by hand, and since the plow is too heavy for even the strongest of us to move it, he said to do it with a shovel. You'll need to go at least 6 to 10 inches deep into the ground. I'll be over here, out of the way, so I'm not bothering you," he said all this with a light smirk. She smirked back and got to work. _God save me if, after this, my muscles fall off._ She thought while grunting at the sheer effort and strain that this sort of manual labor was putting on her body.

She could feel the hard wood of the shovel rubbing against the skin of her hands, opening it up and infecting it with dirt, grime and sweat. _D_e_ar Jesus, doing anything with my hands after this will be hell._ She just knew she was gonna get horrible and painful blisters from the chaffing of the shovel. And speaking of chaffing, her breeches were still rubbing her the wrong way. Now she was sweating and it was hot, so the chaffing got even worse. _I'm gonna need some aloe, and fast._ She whimpered internally. "This is gonna be one long journey," she whispered to herself, and feeling eyes in her she looked up to find Lady Rachel looking at her from the balcony. _On second thought; if she's here, it definitely can't be that bad. I just have to power through it. _Once Rachel looked away, Quinn got back to shoveling dirt, wanting to get done with it even faster than before.

Unknowingly, Sam had watched the whole gaze exchange between Quinn and Rachel, and a light quirk of his lips showed itself while he thought of something he could do to help Quinn out with trying to win Rachel's heart.

* * *

><p><strong>How about that? Sam in love with Rachel? What was I thinking? :)<strong>

**And Rachel's horny for Quinn's strong and sweaty body pressed against hers... Ouch. Sizzling.**

**Reviews are always welcome,I wanna know what you think. :)**


	6. Dark Days

**Two chapters in one week, guys, I kinda love you. The reviews I get make me happy, I'd like a little bit more feedback on this story.**

**So, sneak peek: Quinn and Jesse's relationship takes a turn for the worse; Rachel and Quinn get CLOSER (OMG); and why is Jesse having girls rub one out for Quinn?**

**This is picking up a lot of speed, watch out for the updates to come. This is kind of a short chapter, it's s little bit of a filler, but anyways...**

**Enjoy :)**

* * *

><p>For the next two months, Quinn's life had changed very little. Having finished overturning the soil, which left her many blisters and callouses on the palms of her hands, Jesse had ordered her to start on a fresh piece of land, 250 x 275 square feet, and repeat the process. Needless to say, Quinn almost ripped his balls off with the shovel.<p>

But she had also learned the consequences of disobedience. That day, Jesse had commanded her to clean his riding boots before he left, but she had politely refused, citing she still had to finish overturning soil. Jesse, being a prick, didn't like her backtalk, as polite as it may have been. He ordered Roman to grab her and, after taking her to a dimly lit room, chain her to the whipping post, her back uncovered and facing him.

He grabbed his riding crop first, and, getting close to her, he hit her with it several times, hard enough to hurt and redden but leaving her skin otherwise unmarked. He walked away from her and grabbed a long, leather cat o' nine tails. He cracked the strips of leather with a flick of his wrist. He swung his arm out and the strips connected with Quinn's back, hard. She took a hard breath, trying to stay quiet. She held her screams in, and she could feel the skin of her back opening up and blood flowing freely out of it. "You... *crack* Will not...*crack* Disobey... *crack* ME! *crack, crack, crack*" he kept lashing out at her, quite literally. She was so close to blessed unconsciousness, she could almost taste heaven, when the lashing stopped.

"Have someone look at her back, she still has work to do," Jesse said over his shoulder as he walked away, the bloodied whip laying where he had stood. She felt strong hands grab her by her arms and, being extremely careful so as not to upset her wounds further, carried her out of the punishment room and into the castle.

She felt herself being set down on her stomach, soft voices whispering back and forth in sentences she couldn't quite understand. Her mind was foggy, the pain was numbing and she thankfully wasn't aware of much anymore. A soft, damp cloth dabbed at her bloody back and someone gasped at the gashes littering her back; Quinn didn't know, nor did she care, who had gasped.

The soft cloth kept dabbing carefully at her back, and she felt warm breath at her ear when whomever was tending to her injuries told her that 'this might sting'. Unconsciously, her hands flexed and released, grasping at nothing. The unmistakable scent of strong wine filled her nostrils and made her already fuzzy mind swim and fog up even more.

A sharp sting on her back, and a burning sensation running through her veins cleared her mind of whatever had happened to it. She wanted to scream until her throat bled, she wanted to get out of her skin to get away from the burning, but she didn't have the strength to do it. She was presented with a goblet, an amber liquid swirling inside of it. Something, or someone (Quinn didn't know), told her to drink it so she did. The wine warmed her right up and she felt her energy coming back to her.

Quinn slowly stretched her sore and aching back, flexing and loosening her muscles when they started to re-open the angry gashes that she knew would scar. She sat up and took a look at her makeshift nurse.

A woman, petite and slender, with copper colored hair, tied back in a single braid that fell down her back. Her eyes were an intriguing stormy grey, and small freckles were spaciously littered across sun-kissed cheeks. Pink lips formed into a smile when Quinn's eyes fell upon them. Quinn, unabashedly, kept looking at the girl (more appropriate term) before her. Small breasts, very in proportion with her body, incredibly long legs, a small waist and slim hips.

"Lord Jesse said that you might need to relax after such a brutal punishment," the sultry voice this girl used gave away her intentions. Quinn quickly stood up against her back's protests. "Listen, I appreciate what you did but I don't think your definition of 'relaxing' is the same as mine," Quinn started to walk towards the door, but she was roughly pushed, back first, into the closed door.

A broken scream was torn from the Musketeer's throat, and she slumped in pain. The girl grabbed her and pushed her back down onto the cot. "My name is Alexa, so you'll know what to scream as you cum," she revealed what Quinn already knew as she pulled down the tight pair of breeches. Once that was done, her hands came up to her braid and let her hair out of its confinements. It fell in waves down her back, and she re-focused on the matter at hand.

Alexa's hand clapped down on Quinn's flaccid dick, and the blonde was internally begging her penis to stay limp. Apparently, fate was against her and sheer will power wasn't gonna do anything. Her dick slowly came to life, hardening at the copper-haired girl's ministrations. Alexa squeezed Quinn, twisting slightly, as she smirked when a moan made its way of out her mouth, against Quinn's wishes.

"Just lay back, you'll enjoy it more than if you fight it." Alexa's head got closer to Quinn's rock hard cock, and Quinn had to grit her teeth, clenching her jaw as well, to prevent a sigh from escaping when she felt a warm, wet tongue swirling around her head.

"You're so big, and taste so good. I can't wait to ride you," she let out with a sultry smirk on her face. Quinn decided to take advantage of it. _She wants it, I'll give it to her, even if she can't handle it._ Quinn's hands moved and wove their way into that shiny sheet of hair, grabbing handfuls and tugging harshly on it. Sounds of gagging and slurping filled the small room as Quinn pushed her dick further down Alexa's throat. "Suck on my dick, you little whore. You wanted it, now swallow it." Quinn stood up, with Alexa on her knees, sucking at her cock.

Quinn held the sides of the girl's face, and moving her feet further apart for better stability, she started thrusting back and forth, the head of her dick pushing at the back of Alexa's throat every time she went back in. "Come on, _Alexa._ This is exactly what you wanted, right? My cock fucking your slutty mouth. Oh, bitch, I'm gonna cum so hard and you're gonna swallow every last drop. But first," Quinn pulled her slippery dick out of the girl's mouth and held it in her hand, jacking herself off slowly, "lick my balls. Get them all wet with your whorish saliva," She ordered, grabbing Alexa's head from the back and pulling her forward.

The girl was forced nose-deep into Quinn's ball sack, and when Quinn pushed her even harder while commanding her to 'lick them', she poked her tongue out and timidly licked them. "Yeah, bitch, lick them good. Not so forward now, are you?" Quinn pulled the girl away and pushed her onto the ground. She kneeled and got into the girl's face, "This is what you get for even thinking that you deserve this. I actually gave you more than what you really deserve, which was a swift kick to the face. And you can tell _Lord Jesse _that if he wants to suck my balls, he's more than welcome to do so himself," She spat in the girl's fear-tainted face.

She picked up her breeches and put them on, not giving two fucks about her burning back and her still raging erection. She walked by herself down to the dungeons, and signaled Thomas, the night shift guard to open the door to her cell. She liked Thomas, he was a quiet guy who made polite conversation every once in a while. He'd play with her to keep her entertained and away from going insane. He raised a bushy eyebrow, "You came down here, by _yourself_? Q-Ray, I thought you wanted to get out of here." He had a questioning tone that she didn't hesitate to answer, after she was in her cell.

"Yeah, in different circumstances, I would have. I don't know if anybody has told you this, but I got lashed. My back is being a bitch right now, and escaping with that, plus a monster boner, was not gonna be easy," She explained, and shook her head at Thomas' amused raised eyebrow. "Don't ask, please God, don't ask," she pled. She had confided in Thomas when he proved he could be a good listener and a good friend.

He looked around slowly, and walked to her cell. He brought out a white handkerchief neatly tied at the corners. She arched an eyebrow, and laughed lightly, taking the hanky being offered to her. She opened it as Thomas walked back to his spot at the foot of the staircase. Inside the makeshift pouch was a loaf of bread, some fruit, and another hanky, this last one, slightly damp. He opened that one and found about six thick slices of cured ham and roast beef.

She smiled at Thomas, and she waved him over to her. They both sat down, Quinn inside her cell and Thomas opposite her, outside of it. They ate and laughed together, until a set of soft footsteps echoed around the dungeons and brought them out of their little bubble of friendship.

Quinn hid the rest of the food, and Thomas scrambled back to his post. Quinn laid down on her cot, but turned onto her stomach once get back started to protest. She hissed in pain, and laid on her stomach.

She looked at the staircase where, now, a petite figure stood. "Good evening, Thomas. I trust you've kept our little prisoner alive," the tinkling voice sounded amused, and Thomas played along. "Aye, Lady Rachel, I've done all I can to keep her alive, but," he stopped and turned serious, "Lord Jesse keeps trying to make it hard for me to do so," he hung his head, not wanting to meet Rachel's eyes.

"Open the cell. Thomas, please," he walks to the door, and opens it quickly. "Close it behind me; I'll call you when I'm done," she steps inside and kneels beside Quinn's cot. In her hands, a small crystal flask and a linen cloth were being held. "May I?" She was shy around Quinn, and she lightly pulled at the hem of the Musketeer's shirt. Quinn, not trusting her voice to do as she wished, just nodded. She raise herself on her arms and knees so her shirt could be pulled all the way up to the back of her neck.

Rachel winced at the dried blood that littered the pale expanse of the blonde's back. Her fingertips flitted from wound to wound, some still open and lightly oozing blood. She turned to Thomas, "Thomas, please ask Sam to get one of Jesse's white shirts and to bring it down here. I'm gonna need something to bandage her up," Thomas nodded his understanding and left.

Quinn slightly turned her head, "Quinn. My name is Quinn," her hoarse voice hurt and burned at her dry throat, and she swallowed painfully. Her saliva did little to soothe the flame in her throat, but she didn't say anything. Rachel smiled at Quinn, "Alright then. Pleasure to meet you, Quinn," a shiver made its way down two different sets of spines. Quinn at how her name sounded coming from Rachel's lips, and Rachel at how it would sound if she were to scream it in ecstasy. _Snap out of it, you're MARRIED._ She berated herself.

The silence that encompassed them was palpable and tense but neither one knew what to say to break it. Fortunately, quick footsteps were heard scrambling down the stone staircase. Two people came into the dungeons; one of them was Thomas, who actually had a reason to be there. The second figure was Sam, who looked a combination of angry and anxious.

"Milady, wh... what... what are you doing down here?" Sam stumbled through his words, and Quinn could have sworn she saw the ghost of a blush fly through his face. He seemed troubled, but Quinn couldn't pinpoint why.

Rachel stood and locked her gaze on Sam, who bowed his head, not daring to look at her for fear of the consequences, "What I do and where I am in my spare time, Mr. Evans, is of no concern to you unless I call upon you. As for your question, I shall leave it unanswered. Now, Thomas, if you and Mr. Evans could leave me to tend to Quinn in private, I would be immensely thankful." she knelt back down, and Thomas dragged Sam out of the dungeons.

"This will hurt, but it's necessary for you to make a full recovery," Rachel's voice was back to the shy lull that Quinn was accustomed to. Quinn gripped the sides of her thighs, her fingers finding purchase in the firm muscle that laid there. The first few drops of whatever liquid Rachel had stung at Quinn's back, and she couldn't help the reflexive tensing of her muscles under the strain. She willed get back to relax, but it unwillingly tensed up when the burning liquid was once again poured into the wounds.

A few stray tears fell from her eyes, but her hands wouldn't move to stop them. She unclenched her jaw to take a deep lungful of air, but didn't count on Rachel not being done yet. The pain flared again, and as her back burned so did her lungs, for the scream she released was nothing short of horrifying. She whimpered slightly as Rachel cooed, "It's over, I'm done. Quinn, don't cry, please. Don't cry," She was now bandaging Quinn's back with the torn shirt that she 'borrowed' from Jesse.

Rachel moved towards Quinn's head and, taking it carefully in her hands, she lifted it up, sat down on the cot and placed it on her lap. Quinn's body was shaking violently, and she had broken out into a cold sweat. Rachel ran her fingers through Quinn's soft blonde locks, lightly scratching her scalp with her fingernails. Quinn suddenly sat up, and bending over, she dry heaved and then threw up. After a few minutes of spitting nothing but bitter-tasting saliva and gastric juices, Quinn started breathing normally, Rachel rubbing gentle and soothing circles on the uninjured small of her back. The sound of Quinn retching had brought Thomas and Sam back to the dungeons, and they both looked terrified.

"Take her into the guest room, I'll tend to her." Rachel's authoritative voice left no room or disagreements and arguments. Being extremely careful, Sam and Thomas picked Quinn's limp body up and started carrying her towards the stairs. But fate wasn't on their side; Jesse was just coming down them, Alexa on his heels. He gazed upon the scene before him, and scowled. He looked from Rachel, to Thomas and Sam carrying a barely-conscious Quinn.

"What the hell is going on down here? Where are you taking her? And Rachel, what is the meaning of this?" He spat out in a single breath. The two soldiers looked to their lady for orders. Jesse wouldn't have it, though, "Put her back in her cell. Alexa has some unfinished business with her that she needs to attend to," he grinned lasciviously, "I need to make sure my orders are carried out properly," he stood, waiting for Thomas and Sam to do as he commanded.

Rachel, on the other hand, overturned his wishes, "Take her to my chamber, lads. Please," She would have laughed at the petrified look of bewilderment that marred Jesse's usually schooled features, but she couldn't give herself the satisfaction. Thomas and Sam started moving, a clear 'yes, Milady' on their lips but Jesse had to step in again.

"What do you mean, 'to your chamber'? Thomas, Sam, put her _back in her cell!_ And Rachel, you and I are gonna have a serious conversation about going against my orders," his voice is low and threatening but Rachel stands her ground.

"Jesse, she's falling ill. Leaving her down here is only gonna make matters worse. She could die, Jesse, and I won't let it happen!" she snarled out. Jesse was taken aback, _has she fallen for her? Does she know the girl's a freak? Does she want her, every part of her?_ Jesse brought himself out of the images permanently burnt into his brain of Rachel riding the blonde Musketeer up to the wee hours of the morrow. Or of Rachel being taken from behind by a French soldier. His brain was swimming with thought-up images of Rachel and her Musketeer, making love in their bed, between silken sheets, or fucking roughly, against a wall or out on a balcony, where everyone could see them. His jealousy boiled and bubbled over, incinerating all of the nerve endings that covered his body.

He growled menacingly, "Take her up and into your bed, then. You're such a _whore_," Nobody had time to register what he had said until a resounding _SLAP_ was heard echoing the cavernous room. Jesse swallowed and gently touched his stinging cheek, "How dare you, Jesse St. James? I guess it takes one to know one, am I correct? Come on, Sam, Thomas." She pushed past Jesse, whose face had turned red in anger. He felt Alexa's hands on his shoulders and he turned around, grabbed and lifted her by her waist, her legs wrapping around him, and ran to his room, from where loud moans and screams were heard throughout the night.

* * *

><p><strong>HOT DAMN! Does anyone else think that Alexa is a pretty big whore for fucking Jesse after she tried and failed to fuck Quinn? No, just me? Dammit...<strong>

**But, how about that? What is Jesse thinking, sending sluts to play with Quinn's sharp sword?**

**Again, review and tell me what you might wanna see in later chapters. I don take those into considearation. :)**


	7. Sweat, Blood and Tears

**Damn, guys! THREE chapters in one week... You guys must be lovin' this. This is a slightly longer chapter, a lot of stuff is gonna happen.**

**First: tension strikes between Q and R; second: Jesse gets an unexpected visitor; third: big surprises... BIG**

**Kinda mushy Faberry ending**

**Alright, enjoy :)**

* * *

><p>Quinn woke up with a tender back and feeling slightly nauseous. She took several deeps breaths and the scent of vanilla and lavender filled her brain. Wait... <em>Vanilla and lavender? Where the fuck am I? <em>She tried to move and get out of the bed. _Bed? Now, I'm panicking! What happened to me? _A soft grumble and pressure on her waist brought her around...

_HOLY FUCK, I SLEPT WITH THAT ALEXA CHICK! God fucking dammit!_ the arms of the girl tightened around her waist, and pulled her down. She fell back on the feather pillow, burying he'd nose in the vanilla-and-lavender scented sheets and pillow case. She wanted to cry, she really did, but a soft 'Quinn' made her do a double take. _OH, SHIT! I SLEPT WITH RACHEL. Jesse's gonna castrate me, when he finds out I slept with his wife. _Quinn's mind was going a mile a minute, but a conversation she had had with Sam popped up into the forefront of her psyche.

_They haven't slept together; they have never consummated their marriage. I actually have a shot at wooing Rachel. _Quinn was delirious with joy, but then her joy got shot down, _will she even want me when she learns that I have a penis? Will it change everything, or will she accept me for everything I am?_

When she felt rather than heard the sheets rustling, she laid back down and pretended to sleep. Rachel sat up groggily, and looked at Quinn's limp frame. The deep, angry lacerations that obscured the pale skin of her back. Her fingertips flitted over each lesion lightly, and after checking that Quinn was still deeply asleep, she bent over and pressed her moist lips against each one of them.

Feeling those plump, wet lips pressing against her skin sent jolts of electricity through her body, starting at the place of the kiss going through her heart and ending at the sensitive nerve endings of her sleeping dick. She fought a pleasured gasp as Rachel kept skimming her lips over her wounds. She couldn't stop herself when her tongue shyly poked out and kicked at one laceration that was specially deep, at the right side of her back, under her ribcage. This was more than Quinn could handle; she moaned.

Loudly. Rachel shot back out of the bed as Quinn rolled over and fell down, smashing her already damaged back. She whined, and stood up. Rachel was swallowing and looking at anything but her, her heart and breathing rates picking up. "Quinn... you need to go. I need to think..." She trailed off, but Quinn wouldn't have it. "Think about what, Rachel?" She didn't mean for her voice to come out so full of poison.

"About this, about you and about me, and about what's going on between us, _if_ there's anything between us," Rachel didn't notice that her words were cutting deeper than Jesse's whips had. Quinn held her tears at bay and nodded her head, "Okay," she acquiesced, "you want time, you got it. All the time that you want." The whispered assent was heartbreaking, and both women in the room knew their hearts had been shattered into millions of pieces.

Quinn walked out of the room, her eyes still dry but burning with the need to cry. But she wouldn't, she couldn't show vulnerability... especially in front of Rachel. She couldn't let Rachel see just how deeply she had hurt her.

She stepped outside and onto the fields, she grabbed the shovel and went to work. She shoveled her frustrations, her anger, her pain and her sorrow; they all made their way out via the shovel. She worked until her back, her shoulders and her arms protested her every movement and her hands were raw, bleeding from the small blisters that the shovel had given her. Quinn didn't pay much attention to it and just kept on overturning inch after inch after goddamned inch of dirt, until a few short hours later, she was done. The whole area Jesse has asked for was completely ready for farming.

She dropped the shovel and started to walk, until a voice called her back, "You know, if you wanted to get some of those feelings out, you could come and train with us. Keep you in shape while giving you a little leeway," She turned and spotted a tall, tan man with a strip of hair down the middle of his head.

"The name is Noah Puckerman, but my friends call me Puck," he introduced himself, extending a hand. She shook it, still ignoring the pain that shot up her whole arm. She smiled with one side, "Quinn, and sure, I'd love to train with you guys. But... Lord _Jesse _night not let me." He shrugged his big shoulders, "He doesn't have to know..." Quinn nodded and went to follow Puck, when he started walking away from the fields, and away from the castle.

Walking down stone steps fitted into the ground, they led them to several barracks covertly hidden inside a natural cave. The barracks were set up in such a way that each barrack did a different type of training while linking everything together by creating an all-out obstacle course that was impossible to get through unless the runner knew all the training phases forward and back.

Quinn's appreciative whistle echoed and rebounded throughout the walls of the cave, "Impressive!" Puck walked up to Sam, who was talking with a guy that looked to be twice her height. "Hey, Sam. Do you think we could set Quinn up with some training gear? I think she's closer to being your size than mine or Tower Boy over there." Puck grins and Finn mockingly grins back, "You're an idiot, Puck." They laughed and clapped each other on the shoulder.

Quinn was still looking around the barracks, her eyes surveying all the barracks, her calculating gaze finding the strengths and the weaknesses, and how they merged to make the obstacle course challenging even if the runner knew what he was doing... and lethal if he didn't.

Puck came up behind her, and looking over her shoulder, he let out a small chuckle and whispered into her ear, "It's magnificent, isn't it? Sam designed it, Finn and I put it together. It took us a while, especially since we had to switch some things up to fit it inside the cave, but we did it. And we feel damn proud," he smiled smugly.

Quinn smirked and turned to Puck, "When can I try it?" She sounded so serious it took Puck a couple of seconds to understand the query. When he did, his eyes widened comically and he let out a loud guffaw that shook the cave. Quinn let him laugh for a few moments, and when he did, her face still looked so serious that he dumbly asked, "Wait, are you serious?" His eyes were bugging out of his head, and he knew he must look like a real nitwit.

Quinn nodded slowly, and let out a quiet 'yeah'. Sam came back with some training armor and he smiled at Quinn, handing the items over. She put them on, and jumped around a little to get her body used to the new weight that the training suit. She did some low warm ups with the suit. She could feel her breathing beginning to quicken, and her heart rate spiked. She stopped and looked at the men, "I'm gonna need to start training and fast; I'm a little out of shape, and I didn't even notice," she grimaced.

The three exchanges looks and turned back to her, "Not a problem," Puck grinned, "we can get you into shape," Quinn grinned widely. _This should keep my mind off of... her._ Her grin faltered, and the three Englishmen noticed. Puck knew he had to tell them, even if he himself didn't know the whole story, "Quinn, listen. Why don't you go back up, and get something to eat. We can start whopping your skinny ass into shape tomorrow, okay?" She nodded and took the training suit off, and Sam shook his head when she bent to pick it up, "I got it, go eat." She nodded curtly and quietly left, lost in her many thoughts. All of one certain brunette.

Puck looked at Quinn's retreating back, and when he was sure that she was out of earshot, he put a hand on Finn's shoulder and the other on Sam's, and he turned them and pulled than farther into the cave, "Look, guys, I'm not gonna pretend to know what's going on with Quinn or why she was beating the shovel into the ground, but she needs an outlet and we're the ones that are gonna present her with it," he looks from Sam to Finn, "She's got a lot of emotions bottled up, and I don't blame her. Being held captive in a country that it's in war with her mother country, and then being humiliated by the Lord of the House..."

Sam felt that he had to interrupt, he had to fill in the blank, so he mumbled, "Falling for the Lady of the House..." Puck caught it anyways. "What was that, Sam?" His eyes bore into Sam's, so he presses on, "Sam, do you know something we don't?" Sam reluctantly nods, and speaks up, "Quinn's falling in love with Lady Rachel. Last night, after Lord Jesse punished her, Rachel ordered us to get Quinn up to her chamber. Something must have happened between them; Lady Rachel wouldn't have let Quinn come out to work, her back is too messed up and she needed to recover. If you caught Quinn working outside, then something is bothering, and that same thing must be bothering Lady Rachel." The three shared a crestfallen look, then Finn spoke the thought running through all their minds, "We gotta help them get together," the other two nodded solemnly.

The silence was broken when Puck snorted and started laughing at seemingly nothing. Sam and Finn exchanged worried glances and Finn stage-whispered, "Do you think he's finally lost his head?" At which Sam, while shaking his head, replied, "Did he even have it to begin with?" Finn and Sam laughed, while Puck sobered up and glared at them.

"I do have my head in its place, thank you very much. I just thought it was funny that now we've gone from badass army leaders to prissy Cupids," his face was the picture of confusion. His eyebrows knitted together, "_Are _we prissy little Cupids?" His voice sounded like that of a four year old that had just been told he couldn't have another cookie.

Sam decided to make him feel better, "No, Puck! We are _not_ prissy little Cupids! We are even manlier men for having the balls to help another person out in the complex affairs of Love. Only real men can show their soft side and still be badass," The three of them nodded their heads, smug grins playing at their lips.

"Now all we gotta think about is how the hell do we get Quinn and Lady Rachel together, while keeping them out of Lord Jesse's radar?" Puck had an answer for Finn. "Well, guys, follow me and I'll tell you a little something about the treacherous and ingenious ways of love." The three of the walked out of the cave, talking in hushed whispers about their newest plan.

_Rachel_

After Quinn had left, Rachel had called for her chambermaid, Anna, who she trusted with her innermost secrets and desires. Anna was a loyal servant to her mistress, and would die before spilling any of the treasured whispers she kept. So when Lady Rachel called for her and said it was urgent, she was prepared for the worst.

Coming into her mistress's chamber, and closing the door, bolt and all, behind her, Anna found Rachel sitting on her bed, legs drawn close to her petite torso, her arms wrapped around her knees and her head resting on her arms. Her shoulders and back were wracked with sobs and Anna could hear the faint sniffles coming from within the cocoon her mistress had made of her body.

"Miss? Miss, what can I do for you?" Anna's soft voice reached Rachel's ears, and she slowly looked up, holding Anna's worried gaze with her own. Looking at her mistress's eyes, puffy, red-rimmed, and tearing, Anna did all she could to stop herself from crying. She had always been in the same emotional frequency as Rachel, from the first day that she had started serving her.

Rachel took a couple of deep calming breaths, and her tears stopped flowing, she wiped her cheeks free of the saline liquid. She laughed lightly, and whispered softly, "I must look like a real mess, huh, Anna?" She laughed again, and Anna gave her a small lopsided grin.

"No, you could never look a mess. I'm pretty sure you could make that look beautiful, anyways, so it's not a bad thing" Anna smiled toothily, and Rachel chuckled. That chuckle turned into a full-blown, belly-rolling, rib-hurting laugh. Anna soon joined in, not being able to keep a serious face while in the presence of a joyous Rachel; her joy was contagious!

They sobered up, tears rolling out of their eyes and their breaths hitching every now and again. Anna looked at Rachel, and questioned in a soft voice, "Alright, so what's going on with you? What's got you looking so down on your luck?" Anna placed her hand gently on Rachel's shoulder and brushed her thumb soothingly back and forth.

Rachel took a deep breath, and looking of out the window, replied in a voice that dripped with vulnerability, "I think I might be falling in love..." She let her sentence run out, and dropped her head to prevent Anna from seeing her tears. Anna was thinking the worst, _she might be falling in love... with Jesse? Lord save her! And us! This is insane! How can she possibly be in love with... THAT? I thought she'd have more common sense and higher expectations when it came to her spouse... _"Anna!" Anna turned and locked eyes with an anxious-looking Rachel.

"Where did you go just now? You basically shut down after I told you that I may be in love," Rachel kept her chocolate orbs on Anna's ice-blue irises, and noticed the blush that spread and covered the slender neck, the suntanned cheeks and the forehead, all the way up to her hairline. "I... I, uh... I thought that you... you might be talking about... Jesse; I thought that you might be falling in love with him..." Anna was interrupted by another bout of boisterous laughter. "You... that I... with Jesse... God no!" Her sentences made no sense while they were being uttered in between spells of raucous laughter.

Anna flushed an even darker pink, and pursed her lips. Rachel's laughter subsided and another austere period of silence stretched between them. Rachel's soft continuance of her unfinished articulation once again made it come to a standstill, "But it's extraordinarily complex and confusing. I mean, if two people love each other, shouldn't they be able to drop everything else and just _be_ together... Why is there so much leeway for other things to get in the way?" Rachel's voice had gotten closer and closer to breaking as each words left her lips, and by the time she finished, tears were running anew down her cheeks.

Anna sighed and remarked in a gentle tone of voice, "Because, if those two people love each other," she was trying to phrase her thoughts so Rachel wouldn't misconstrue what she really meant, "if they truly love each other, then those things that get in the way won't be much of a problem. If anything, they'll find out, after their run-in with those obstacles that the other person is really the one they're meant to be with."

Rachel was slowly nodding her head, and her eyes were wide by the time Anna finished, "Anna, you're a genius." She bolted out her room, leaving Anna to ponder what she had said. Agree a few seconds she also nodded her head, "Of course I am, how can I not be?" She then left her mistress's room, closing the door, and went back to the kitchens.

_Jesse_

Standing over his desk, looking over maps of France and its surroundings, Jesse thought about everything that had happened lately. _Rachel is falling, or already is, in love with that French slut? How can that be? She's a freak of nature, an abomination; she looks like a woman altogether but when it goes down to her pants, she has something that normal women don't have. How can Rachel love THAT when she has ME to make a comparison?_

He's roughly yanked out of his thoughts by a visitor; a peculiar visitor that Jesse hadn't seen since he had sent this man on a very important mission. A mission that resulted on a French Musketeer being captured and brought to Carlisle Castle as a slave. "Alec, my man, I was starting to think you dropped the mission for the pleasure of having a woman taking your cock," they both laughed at that, and Alec answered, "I would've, Jesse, you know I would've. But, as good a lay as Judy Fabray is, she actually pressured _me _to finish everything here so I could have more time to attend to her... needs." Alec's smile was lecherous at best, and his hand had made its way down to his crotch to rub at his clothed dick.

Jesse chuckled at his antics, "Well, you're gonna see her soon again. I'm gonna send you back, I need you to tell her that we're taking good care of her daughter, you know, lay her 'worries' to rest. And tell her that the invite for her to come visit is still up. But I don't know if seeing her youngest child working like a slave will be any good to her... On the other hand, she may treat her worse than me."

He thought for a second, then started up again, "Yeah, tell Mme. Fabray her daughter's good, and if you can, bring me back news of my little boy. I wanna see how big he's getting... To think that the girl I fucked was the sister of the girl I enslaved. How ironic life is..." He mused, and waving his hand at Alec, he went back to his own thoughts.

_Yeah, ironic indeed, _Alec mulled over the orbit in his life while absentmindedly stroking the scar on his face... _The same one that Jesse St. James seems to forget he gave me._ He shook his head, his eyes landing on a mirror hanging on the hallway wall. He looked into it, his eyes tracing his scar. _Soon, St. James, very soon I shall have my revenge. And your name will blow away in a hurricane of ash and dust._ He turned back and walked out of Carlisle Castle.

Crossing in front of a sparring arena, his eyes caught two people that seemed to be tussling in the same way that the fighters in Southeast Asia he had trained with did. Their hands grappled at upper bodies and their feet swept at their opponents. Punches were thrown, ribs were shielded by elbows, kicks to the torso and to the legs were being delivered repeatedly. One fighter was tall and muscular, tan-skinned and solid in his stance; his opponent was shorter and leaner, a fair-skinned blonde that held his own against the hulking blob of muscle, he was faster in his technique and calculating. Looking between both fighters, Alec was giving his support to the blonde fighter.

As he had predicted, the muscles soldier had left himself wide open after striking blindly at his opponent, who sidestepped and nailed him squarely on the back. The hulking man fell to his knees, more from the rattle on his pain receptors than from the blow itself. Alec clapped slowly, and both fighters turned to him. Alex was surprised when he discovered that the blonde fighter he had thought a guy was actually a female.

"That was a really nice spar, highly mismatched if I may add, but really good nonetheless," He praised. Both fighters nodded, and the tall man replied, "Yeah, I thought the same thing when Fabray asked to fight me as a warm-up, but there was no changing her mind..." Puck stopped when Alec started to cackle loudly. Puck looked irritated, Quinn looked highly amused.

"I meant 'highly mismatched' intellect-wise, not muscle-wise. If a battle was fought with muscle, the world would be barren. But wars are fought with brains, following strategies, using all your resources with a specific purpose in mind. This young lady had it right by staying out of the way of your mindless pawing, waiting until _you_ made a wrong move to strike. That's how she brought you to your knees." He explained to a slack-jawed Puck and a smug-looking Quinn. He turned to leave, but spoke over his shoulder, "The name's Alec, I can teach you to fight with your brain... if you're interested," he walked away, missing the silent exchange between Quinn and Puck.

The two of them went back to fighting, or training, depending on who was being asked. By the end of the day, Puck was gonna have a swollen back, an unusable left elbow, and mostly-dead legs. Other than that, Puck was good. Quinn's damage was more visible; a broken nose, that she had reset, a busted eyebrow, a lower lip that had somehow been busted twice, some cracked ribs, with possible contusions, and, of course, busted and swollen knuckles. Her legs hadn't received any damage, since her kicks usually made contact.

They went to wash themselves before having their supper, but luck wasn't with them. Rachel was walking down to the kitchens to request her dinner to be brought up to her chambers once again. She ran into them, and her face paled when she saw the state Quinn was in; Puck didn't look so bad. "Oh, my God, what were you two doing? Quinn, have you seen the condition your face is in? What were you thinking?" Rachel bit her lip, while she examined the blonde. Her fingertips softly ghosted over Quinn's bloody lip, then moved to her eyebrow and down her cheekbone to her jaw, where she rested her hand lightly. Quinn shivered lightly at the prospect of Rachel touching her in that same loving manner... in different circumstances.

Neither of them had noticed that Puck was nowhere near their vicinity, but they didn't seem to mind. Quinn pressed her jaw against the warm hand that resided on it. She lifted her hand to tenderly clasp Rachel's and spoke, a soft tune added into their unheard melody, "I thought you needed time... to think... about what you wanted..." she let herself trail off.

Rachel stepped closer to her, and replied with the accompanying harmony, "I did need time and I did think... about everything I needed to sort out. But I can tell you about it tomorrow; tonight, you need somewhere to stay, since I'm not letting you go back to that cell, least in your condition. That, as well, is something we'll be discussing tomorrow. Right now let's sup and get to bed," she resolved, and Quinn nodded her affirmation. Everything else could wait...

* * *

><p><strong>You were NOT expecting THAT... Wow!<strong>

**Charlotte has a kid with Jesse? That Rachel doesn't know about? And what's up with Mme. Farbay? What's she got to do with this? Questions, questions...**

**Also, if anyone checked, like REALLY CHECKED, I went back and re-read all of the story looking for spelling or grammar errors and I corrected them...**

**And last, I do some martial arts, so I kinda know my stuff with the sparring, BUT if any of you guys wanna point anything out, feel free**

**Reviews always make me happy :)... OR I'll stop writing the story, you'll never know the end... :(**


	8. Forbidden

**WOW! Peeps, this is the moment you've all been waiting for... This chapter is 99.99% Faberry-centric, and mostly sappy... I think I got diabetes writing this chapter, it was so sugary, but I also had so much fun! Most of you guys are gonna be cheering... I hope.**

**I have a couple of Rachel dream-sequences in **_italics _**just in case you wonder...**

**Quinn is uber sweet in this chapter, she falters a bit, but mostly, she's sweet.**

**Alrighty, enjoy this chapter and happy holidays, guys!**

* * *

><p><em>Rachel opened her chocolate pools to find herself in her chamber, but something was off: Quinn was nowhere to be found. Rachel looked around the room and spotted a figure standing in front of the open window, looking out on the rosy skies and the fiery hues that painted the horizon. Dawn was slowly creeping upon Carlisle Castle and its inhabitants.<em>

_She walked slowly towards the dark figure, and quietly called out, "Quinn? Quinn, come back to bed, it's cold out here," she was near enough to the figure, and she placed her hand on the crook of the shadowy elbow. The arm was thicker that she thought it would be, the muscles pushing on the skin, tightening it._

_The figure turned, and she recoiled from it when her eyes caught sight of the dark frame of Jesse St. James. He sauntered after her, a sneer permanently chiseled on his face, "What? Disappointed? Did you not like the fact that it was me instead of your precious Musketeer? Were you planning on mounting her in front of the open window, where if anyone were to look up, they would be able to see you riding your lover's cock? Did I ruin your little fantasy of making love to and with her? Oh, I'm sorry, if I had known..." Rachel was now up against one of the posts of the bed, the carved wood digging into her back._

_Jesse was now pressed up against her, she could feel his clothed manhood pressing against her lower abs, his hot breath on her face making her want to throw up. Jesse was wanting for her lips, his own skimming over her jaw and her cheek... And then his weight was gone, nothing but air cooling her body. Another figure was kneeling on the floor, and her eyes couldn't find Jesse._

_The new shadow stood up and turning towards her, Rachel's heart fluttered when her gaze was reflected from stony hazel irises. She breathed out slowly and her throat closed over the name that died on her lips. She took another breath and got out a quiet, "Quinn? Quinn, are you okay?" The hazel irises softened and looked lovingly into her own._

_Quinn's hand reached out and grabbed her own, the warmth spreading from her fingertips up her arm, and fogging up her brain. Her heart rate spiked and faltered with each passing second, and the ever-closing distance between her and Quinn wasn't making things any easier. Slowly, bordering sensuously, Quinn made her way closer to Rachel._

_The tiny duchess soon found herself in the same position she had been in not too long ago, except this time, she relished the heat that came from the unyielding body trapping her against the bedpost; she felt excited, she had been wanting Quinn to want her, to need her, to desire her... And she wanted Quinn to have her, in all extent of the word. She felt her arousal flare when she thought of Quinn thoroughly owning her, making her scream her pleasure to the world until her lungs burnt from non-sufficient oxygen intake._

_Quinn's free hand moved up and lightly pushed a loose strand of hair away from her face, placing it behind her ear. She left her hand where it was, her eyes darting all over her face. Quinn seemed to be memorizing her features, drinking her in. Quinn's hazel orbs stopped at her lips, so plump and soft. Next thing Rachel knew, Quinn's head was beside her own, her hot sweet breath on her ear, and Rachel heard her perfectly clear when she hoarsely whispered, "You're intoxicating; your beauty inebriates me and leaves me wanting to... take you, crawl inside your skin so you can't ever get rid of me." Her lips then brushed against her cheekbone, moving her head to the crook of her neck and nuzzling her nose against it._

_Rachel's pulse quickened when she felt those rosy lips on her neck, kissing her tenderly. A wet, pink tongue darted out and licked the spot, tasting her. Rachel's knees buckled, but Quinn's body was holding her up and against the bedpost. Her arms snaked their way to the blonde's neck, keeping her close to her._

_One hand weaving into soft blonde locks, nails scratching the scalp when she felt sharp canines nipping and biting at her neck, the blonde's tongue soothing the spot afterwards. Kissing her way up that delectable column of flesh, to a delicate jaw and stopping over trembling red lips. Quinn's eyes looked for confirmation in Rachel's; Rachel breathed out against Quinn's lips, "Kiss me, Quinn. I need it," Quinn pushed herself further into Rachel, and softly brought their lips together in an earth shattering kiss that sent sparks through Rachel's body..._

Rachel jolted awake, one hand on her heart, the other tangling itself into her dark tresses. She breathed irregularly, and looked to the other side of the bed. It was empty; she looked around frantically for the blonde Musketeer and she found her in the least expected place: standing in front of the open window, looking out on the horizon, where the sun could barely be seen. Its rays catching Quinn's golden mane, making it sparkle and shine. _Just like an angel, _she thought, her mind pulling her dream to the forefront of her memories and bit her lip. _It all felt so real. The heat, the arousal, her lips and the electricity they brought with them._

Hearing the rustling of the sheets, Quinn turned towards the bed and Rachel worried her lip even harder. "Are you okay? Did I wake you?" Her voice was clear, like she had been awake for some time, but her undertone was husky. Rachel swallowed audibly. She felt the throbbing between her legs intensify as that husky harmony made its way to her ears, almost caressing them. It wasn't helping her that turned this way, the sun casted shadows over Quinn's trim physique, outlining the muscles in her arms. _Those arms trapping me, the sweat coated muscles flexing as they held the blonde above her. _Rachel shook her head at the thought that wormed its way into her sexual fantasies that starred the blonde in front of her.

Quinn had made her way from the window to the bedside in a couple of easy, stealthy strides. She knelt in front of her and gently took her hands in hers. She looked up at Rachel, and the duchess's heart melted at the pure adoration and love that those captivating hazel eyes held. She had never found eyes to be attractive in any way, shape or form, until Quinn's sparkling hazel pair stole her heart.

Since she had first seen the girl kneeling in front of her, she had had trouble keeping her out of her mind, and after the dream she just had, Rachel knew that there was one thing that she wanted to do: kiss the Musketeer and taste those tempting lips. Rachel hadn't noticed she had leant into Quinn until she felt a hand pushing her shoulder back. She furrowed her brow in confusion, which quickly turned to hurt. _She could have told me that she didn't me want to kiss her, instead of breaking me out of my amorous trance,_ her bottom lip trembled and her eyes watered.

Quinn, seeing this, stood up and say on the bed, her thigh touching Rachel's. "Hey, what's wrong, gorgeous? What did this dimwitted Musketeer do to make you cry?" She quietly murmured. Rachel shook her head, and muttered back, "I misread the signs, I thought that you... you wanted me to..." Quinn figured out the problem with Rachel's broken sentences. She brushed silky tresses away from Rachel's pouting face. She brushed a feathery kiss onto Rachel's forehead, then cheek and pulled back to connect their eyes. "I did that because, if you lent in any more, you would've fallen down. I didn't want you to hurt yourself because of me," she caught a stray tear with the pad of her thumb.

Rachel shivered once again, when the thought of rough, callous hands softly worshipping her body. Rough fingertips playing with her nipples, squeezing her breasts. Heated palms, rough and hardened from hours of labor, grabbing at her thighs and kneading her body into a hot ball of putty. She moaned lowly, and Quinn caught on that. "Do you want me to?" The question floated in between them, and Rachel could only nod.

Her head was swimming and the closeness of the embodiment of her latest and hottest sexual fantasies was worsening her condition. They both leant in at the same time, and their lips hovered over the other's. The sound of her door being slammed open brought them out of that delicious trance. Anna and Puck stood in the entryway, a smirk upon Puck's face and a curved eyebrow and slack jaw from Anna.

"Jesse has been looking all over the dungeons for you, Fabray. He's on a war path today and I advise not to get in his way, unless you wanna lose... a limb" Puck spoke first, and everyone except Anna caught onto Puck's meaning of 'limb'. Anna's confusion dripped onto her own words, "He also wanted to talk to you, Milady. Something about trying for a baby..." Anna let her sentence hang when she saw Quinn's fury twist her features and Rachel's anxiety filling the room. Rachel rubbed at her forehead, while Quinn stormed back to her place by the window.

Rachel knew what she had to do, "Anna, Noah, leave us, please. Tell Jesse that I'm not in the mood to talk to him," she set her teary gaze upon the blonde's tense back. Anna and Noah nodded, and left. Anna raised her eyebrow at Puck, who shrugged and appeased her, "I'll tell you what I know, alright." She nodded and the pair walked off.

In the chamber, Rachel stood and bolted the door shut. She turned to Quinn who was still fuming in front of the window, her back bowed and her hands grasping at the sill, her jaw clenching an unclenching rhythmically. Her voice wavered with barely-concealed anger, "You were gonna sleep with him? You were gonna have a baby with him. I'd like to think that what almost happened between us wasn't just a hallucination caused by pain-induced delirium. I'd like to know, if Puck and Anna hadn't walked in, would you still have kissed me? Would you have continued with what we were doing if there had been no interruptions? I need an answer, Rachel. I _deserve_ one." Quinn brokenhearted and defeated utterance cut into Rachel's soul, the pain that was revealed in hazel eyes brought tears to her own.

Rachel stepped towards Quinn, and Quinn dropped her head, tears making trails down her face. Her chin quivered, and she fought the urge to sob. _Was she just playing with me, just to give her husband more things to humiliate me with? Isn't it enough that I fell for a woman that is not free to do the same for me? _Quinn flinched when a small, warm hand places itself on her cheek and nimble fingers catch her tears. Quinn couldn't stop them so she just let them escape.

Rachel gently wiped her cheeks free of tears, and cupping her face, she replied determinedly, "Yeah, if Noah and Anna hadn't barged in, I wouldn't have stopped. I would have gone ahead and kissed you... And now that it's only you and me again, I have no reason, and you don't either, to stop this time," she whispered, her voice dropping with every passing word.

Quinn's arms had moved to Rachel's waist, and they pulled her towards the taller body of the Frenchwoman. Rachel lowered her hands from Quinn's face to her shoulders, and she grasped at the broadness under her fingers. Quinn moved her head down and Rachel felt those soft, rosy lips slant over hers. The kiss was soft and tender, and there was an undercurrent of electricity and fire; if Rachel wasn't touching Quinn, she would've thought the kiss was all in her mind.

Quinn's lips moved with her own, gently grazing them over and over. She took Rachel's bottom lip between her own and tugged gingerly, her tongue flicking it lightly. She pulled back slowly, pecking the kiss-swollen lips before her. The most amazing kiss either girl had ever experienced was over after a few seconds, even if both felt like they had been kissing for days, months, years even.

Both sets of eyes opened, and staring intently into the hazel pair in front of her, Rachel bit her lip coquettishly, and Quinn smiled dopily at the suddenly sexy duchess. She kissed the tip of the pint-sized girl's nose, and spoke quietly, "If you keep doing that with your lip, I'm not gonna be able to restrain myself as well as I have been doing so far..." Rachel cut her off with another mind blowing kiss. Quinn's answer was more than satisfactory.

Quinn cupped Rachel's neck with one hand, bringing the tempting lips closer to her own. Rachel's hand wove its way back into the soft blonde mane and tugged roughly, and she smiled when Quinn moaned and opened her mouth to Rachel's questing tongue. The slippery organ licked Quinn's own, the roof of her mouth and the back of a straight row of upper teeth. Quinn's tongue answered and danced with Rachel's. They wove in and out of each warm cavern, until Rachel closed her lips around Quinn's tongue and sucked.

Quinn's growl was nothing short of animalistic, and Rachel found she didn't mind Quinn's feral side; in fact, a gush inside her panties told her that the savage side of the blonde was more than welcome to come out and play. Rachel pulled away from their embrace, and winked saucily at the Musketeer, who smiled and lowly called out, "Tease."

Quinn strode to Rachel's side and slanted her mouth over the brunette's, giving her a loving peck. "I don't know about you, but I'm hungry, and then I have to go down to the arena and train with the boys. Don't give me that look," she protested when Rachel started to pout, "Sweetheart, I'm just spending time. I wanna be able to keep up with the Musketeers, if I get out of here. If I don't, I wanna be able to protect myself against Jesse's brutes. I wanna be able to come back here, come back to you, every night." Quinn held Rachel's hand and kissing the knuckles lovingly, she turned it over and kissed the palm in the same manner. Still holding onto it, Quinn placed it, palm down, over her heart. Rachel kissed Quinn softly, and pulling back, she smiled shyly at the sweet blonde.

She bit her lip again, and looking at Quinn, she questioned, "Can I tell you a little secret?" Rachel's doe eyes looked so open, so vulnerable, that Quinn brushed the back of her fingers down her cheek, and replied with no hesitation, "Of course you can." Rachel looked down and a faint blush rose on her cheeks. She placed her mouth right beside Quinn's ear, and breathed out her secret, "I think... you're extremely hot when you work out and you look so sexy when the sweat drips down your body. Sometimes... I just wanna lick it all off," the tremor in her voice wasn't lost on Quinn, and she failed to realize that Rachel had now sauntered out of her... their chamber. _She's a little temptress, but oh, how hot she makes me, _she shook her head, blonde mane swishing around with the action, and followed Rachel out of the chamber.

* * *

><p><em>Quinn<em>

She ate something light and walked to the arena. Puck was already there, sparring Finn. It was a draw in her opinion; Finn had the height advantage and Puck had the brains. They were both about the same when it came to muscle, so she warmed up while she kept an eye on their match. Like she had predicted, it was a draw. Finn had thrown a meaty paw out as Puck took a shot to his solar plexus. Puck was out while Finn couldn't move due to the immobilizing shot he had endured. Sam called out, "Draw!" and Quinn raised an amused eyebrow.

She helped Sam move the dead weight of their friends and looking at each other, they shrugged their shoulders, "Let's spar; I'm not waiting for one of them to get back to Planet Earth." They walked into the circle and got ready until Sam realized, "We have no mediator. What if anything happens?" Quinn looked at him with an 'are you for real?' look, before she made it easier on him, "Then we'll call it out. We're both good fighters. If anything goes down, we're gonna be honest and call it out." Sam nodded his understanding.

They got ready again, and seconds before they started, Sam queried, "How many rounds, and how long for each and the breaks in between?" Quinn thought about it for a moment, then came up to a conclusion, "Five five-minute rounds, with ten minutes in between for breaks. If anything happens before we're finished, we stop until we know what happened. Okay?" Sam again nodded his understanding.

They got ready and started sparring. Punches from both had made contact; not hard enough to bruise but enough to be noticed. Quinn threw the first kick with a quick sidekick that nailed Sam on the chest. Sam coughed a bit while Quinn gave him space to get himself together. She motioned to him with her head and he nodded.

Getting his guard back up, Sam went for a quick combination of roundhouses to the ribs, two of which landed the same side. Quinn held her hand out to stop Sam from going anymore, and held her side gingerly. Feeling around her ribs with her fingers, Quinn took a deep breath and their fight started up once again. The first five minutes had passed and both blondes were nursing bruised ribs and breathing irregularly. They twisted their torsos slowly to get their ribs used to moving so they wouldn't have problems walking later on.

They got ready once more, and they started to circle each other, switching their feet whenever necessary. A quick aerial roundhouse from Quinn had Sam on the ground holding the side of his face, and moving his jaw carefully. Quinn had a guilty look on her face which Sam quickly appeased by smiling widely, and saying to her, "No blood, no worries." She nodded once and got back to circling, a feint from Sam caused her to attack, and she received a grapple and sweep for her stupidity. On the ground, they started to really fight. Punches were thrown, some held in hands and returned viciously. Elbows also made a quick appearance, and nailed some hits.

Standing up again, Sam had a bloody nose from aforementioned elbows while Quinn's lip was split yet again by a recoil counterpunch. They both had dirt on their faces and hair, but also an air of joviality about them that had them both smiling like little kids in a playground. In a split second movement, Sam ran at Quinn. Quinn's reflexes kicked in and she didn't know what was going on until she was on her feet and Sam was breathing hard on the ground.

She worried again, and knelt beside him, "Are you okay?" Her anxiety lacing her words, and Sam laughed tiredly, "Yeah, but that aerial spin sidekick was just boss! I didn't even see it coming, and now I think we should stop before I get seriously hurt." He said this with a crooked smile and she agreed immediately. They limped back to the castle and left Finn and Puck to their own devices. Not that they were gonna do much: Puck was comatose, Finn was asleep.

* * *

><p><em>Rachel<em>

Sitting comfortably in her favorite couch, an open book in her lap and finger food on the table beside her head, Rachel thought about her feelings for one certain blonde. _Let's list her pros: she's sweet, caring, honest, loving, adorable, brave, thoughtful, protective, charming, good looking, a good kisser, strong, and oh, so sexy. Okay, Rachel, get back in track. Let's see her cons: ...I don't believe she has any. Oh, my God, she's perfect! _She smiled dreamily and closed her eyes.

_The door of the library opens loudly, shaking her out of her musings. She's pinned to the couch beneath a writhing body over hers. Her wrists are encased in a strong grip, and pushed down into the cushions of the couch. A pair of chapped lips roughly move over her neck and she gasps in pain when a set of teeth bite too hard on her flesh._

_A dark and malicious laugh escapes the throat of her attacker. Her doe eyes widen in recognition, "Jesse, get off of me! You're hurting me! Jesse!" Her throat burns with the intensity of her screams, but Jesse quickly silences her with a hand on her mouth. He kisses her cheek mockingly, and speaks, his voice low and emotionless, "Don't worry, baby, you'll be screaming my name very soon. But not yet; I can't have your damned Musketeer coming and rescuing you. For the next, oh, couple of hours, you're totally and completely MINE," he goes back to biting her neck. When Rachel thinks he's about to break skin, his weight disappears and she sits up._

_Not soon after she does, she's pushed back onto the couch. A tinkling laugh and a flicker of golden hair give away her new 'assailant'. "Quinn, you scared me!" She pouts and Quinn is quick to kiss it away. The blonde manages to roll them over without falling off the couch, so now Rachel is stretched out on top of Quinn. She rests her head against the blonde's chest, listening to her strong heartbeat. Quinn places a feather soft kiss on top of dark, silky chocolate waves and Rachel snuggles further into Quinn's body._

_She maneuvers her arms to snake around the blonde's pale neck, and she looks up to see the tendons and corded muscles work when Quinn swallows. She stretches upwards and places a kiss in the middle of Quinn's throat and lays her head on a strong shoulder. Quinn embraces her tightly, one hand across her waist, the other laying diagonally on her back; Quinn's elbow near her ribs and her hand on the opposite shoulder blade. Rachel sighs contentedly and falls in a blissful slumber._

"Rachel, wake up." A whisper followed by a kiss on the cheek gently rouse the sleeping brunette from her moves her head to the side, and with help from her hands, brings Quinn down for a kiss. The blonde complies, laughing quietly. Quinn brushes her lips over Rachel's several times, neither deepening the kiss. They stop to catch their breath and Quinn places her forehead on Rachel's, before moving her lips up and kissing it as well. Rachel giggled, "You're adorable, you know that?" Quinn smiles and gives her another short kiss.

Quinn stood up and helped Rachel up from her position on the couch. "How long was I asleep?" She asked while lacing her fingers through the blonde's. She gazed to the windows and the red sky that greeted her was evidence of late afternoon, early evening. Bringing Rachel in with her free hand, Quinn replied, "I'm not sure, honestly. I came in and you looked so beautiful sleeping, so peaceful, I grabbed a blank sheet of paper and a piece of charcoal. I couldn't help myself; I sketched you," she smiled bashfully, her pale cheeks tinted a light pink color.

She picked up a piece of paper that had been sitting on the table, hidden from sight by the finger food tray. She handed it to Rachel, who gaped at the detail and the realism of it. Her fingertips brushed delicately over the paper, careful about not smudging the charcoal. She traced over the lines of her cheeks, down her neck, over shadowed collarbones and down the shapely representation of her curvaceous torso.

She blushed prettily when her eyes skimmed over Quinn's vision of her body as a whole; if this was how Quinn saw her, then she also had a lot of restraint. _Let's add self-control and patience to the list of things on her favor, _she noted as she gave the sketch back to Quinn. The blonde refused it, and handed it back. "I drew it for you, so you could see the beauty that my eyes are graced with every day," she swallowed and knelt on one knee.

Rachel's gasp was the start of Quinn's speech "Rachel Berry, I know that you're married, but I'm also completely aware to the fact that you don't love your husband for reasons far beyond my knowledge. But it is within my knowledge that I feel deeply for you, I could even surely say that I love you with all my being. You're protective, you're brave, you're caring, you're sweet and you're unbelievably, ethereally gorgeous. I, Quinn Fabray, kneel here, before you, to ask for your permission to let me court you. I don't care what your husband has to say; as long as you say yes to me, I'll always be by your side, whenever and however you need me. I give myself to you, to do with me as you please, if you would give me the honor of courting you," Her gaze was so loving and so pure, her voice so sincere, and her words had Rachel in tears; and as Quinn swallowed thickly, Rachel whispered her response, "Oh, Quinn. That was the most heartfelt, sincere and downright amazing thing anybody has ever said to me. Yes, Quinn, you may court me." Rachel's smile was as radiant as the sun, and Quinn felt like she could take on the whole world and come out victorious if it meant that she could see that smile painting Rachel's face forever.

Rachel found herself in the strong embrace of her lover, who twirled her effortlessly in the air, their giggles filling the library. Quinn set Rachel down on her feet, and Rachel whispered her own proclamation, "I love you, too, Quinn. You stole my heart ever since that first moment I laid eyes on you; you were unconscious, and Jesse's lackeys were carrying your body down to the dungeon. Oh, and that reminds me, I got a little something to give back to you. It's in my chamber right now, and we can get it after supper," Quinn nodded her agreement, and stepping into Rachel's personal space, she bent down and captured the brunette's full lips between her own.

They both sighed at the contact and melted further into their embrace, until Quinn pulled them out of their warm cocoon, wrapping her arms around the tiny girl's equally tiny waist. Rachel folded herself into the Musketeer's body and shifted ever closer when Quinn spoke up, "Let's eat supper, and head to bed. I wanna enjoy more time with you," she whispered softly. She felt Rachel's nod against her chest, and bent her head down to place a kiss against sweet smelling tresses.

* * *

><p><strong>I don't know, some of you guys might be thinking I'm moving things too fast.<strong>

**Well, make up your fricking minds. You want me to get them together now or wait till later?**

**Also, for people that have been asking, Brittana is coming back in later chapters and Rachel is handing back Quinn's pendant, next chapter.**

**Next chapter as well; Jesse comes up again and is a complete and total ass to Rachel, but no worries, Quinn's there to save the day... and hopefully castrate Jesse.**

**And yeah! So, review, review, review. Please, some of these things make me laugh. And they all make my day. Again, happy holidays. Be nice to your parents... Santa wont get you anything but a swift kick to the balls... }:D**


	9. Drastic Measures

**A longer chapter (the longest so far) for Christmas, as a gift to you all. Imma keep it a surprise for you.**

**Enjoy :)**

* * *

><p>After proclaiming their love for one another in the library, Quinn and Rachel made their way down to the dining hall. They were walking close to one another and whispering sweet nothings in each other's ears. They stole shy glances and blushed under heated gazes. Quinn, being the ever chivalrous FrenchwomanMusketeer/lover, made small loving gestures: opening doors; flying down the stairs to cordially receive her lady's hand at the bottom, softly kissing the knuckles afterwards; she even went as far as almost getting into a fight after overheating one of the soldiers looking at Rachel and saying Jesse was 'the man for tapping that gorgeous ass'.

They walked in hand in hand, Rachel playfully pulling Quinn towards her, and Quinn playing the reluctant spouse, only to give into Rachel's gravity and stepping closer to her chocolate-haired duchess. Quinn used both hands to brush strands of hair behind Rachel's ears, and cupping her cheeks tenderly, brought her into a kiss.

It seemed like they couldn't stop kissing. Before their first kiss, they could restrain from it, neither knowing how good it felt. After their first kiss, it was a miracle that they could keep their lips off of each other. They both smiled into their kiss, and deepened it simultaneously. Quinn's hands had made their way down to Rachel's womanly hips, while Rachel was pulling Quinn down, using her arms around the Musketeer's neck for leverage.

They were both lost in their own little world when the sound of glass breaking pulled them out of it. Quinn immediately put herself between Rachel and whatever danger there may have been, her arms straight out to her sides. Rachel grabbed her shoulders tightly, fearing for her lover's safety.

They were both met with a livid Jesse St. James, a broken glass shattered at his feet, liquid pooling around it. Behind Jesse, Puck, Finn, Sam and a newly caught up Anna, smiled joyfully at them and exchanged silent high fives. Jesse's voice removed with rage as he uttered, his jaw clenched, "Rachel, please tell me that I didn't see you willingly kissing that sack of shit? Tell me that you are not whoring yourself out to this abomination?" Jesse spat venomously.

Quinn saw red; she launches herself at Jesse, and it took Puck and Finn to hold her back and even then, they were having trouble. "You little fucker! You can say anything you want to me, but don't you dare call Rachel anything, you fucking hypocrite." She yelled out, and Jesse reared back at the fury coming from the blonde.

"You're calling me a hypocrite? Have you even told her that you're not normal, huh?" Jesse couldn't even get a laugh out at the look on Quinn's face before she had gotten herself out of Finn and Puck's grasp and had launched herself at him. Jesse felt how his back slammed against the stone floor and Quinn's fists beating his face into an unrecognizable pulp.

Quinn was lost in a sea of blood and pain and rage, and every fiber of her being was yelling at her to 'kill him!' But soft hands pulled Quinn back and away from Jesse's unconscious body, and they were on her face making her focus on a beautiful pair of soft brown pools that looked intently into hers. And a melodious cooing in her ear, urgently whispering, 'come back to me, please, Quinn. Come back to me.'

And Quinn collapsed to her knees, tears streaming from her eyes. She was so tired, she had been running on adrenaline alone for the whole ordeal of beating Jesse into the floor. And those soft hands were back on her face and those eyes were peering into her soul once more and she could do nothing but breathe out a broken, 'I'm sorry, I'm so sorry' and her tears kept flowing.

She was brought into a soft, warm body, arms encasing her back and her face was buried into a sweet-smelling neck. Her hair was being brushed away from her face in a soothing manner as the same cooing voice calmed her down. Her tears were subsiding as her body was still wracked by sobs and she felt lightheaded. Her tears stopped altogether and she breathed deeper, easier, and the familiar scent of vanilla and lavender filled her nostrils and helped with returning her heartbeat back to normal.

Quinn pulled her face away from the flowery scented neck and looked up and into Rachel's worried eyes. The brunette smiled slightly, "Hey, how are you feeling? You scared me so much back there, baby. Please, don't do that again, Quinn. You don't know how scared I was... of what Jesse might do to you. He doesn't like it when people stand against anything he says. He's already mad enough because I won't go back to the 'marriage' bed. He's furious now because I chose you over him, he outraged and lashing out because you have something he wanted to get and never actually had: me. He's lashing out at you because of me..." Rachel was starting to see the only way out of this horrid situation they were in, and was about to tell Quinn, when the blonde soldier caught up with her train of thought.

It was the brunette's turn to be brought out of her own head, "Rachel, sweetheart, listen to me. I told you when I declared my undying love for you: it doesn't matter what he say, or does, to me. If it means that I can have you, have your love, it's not a problem. I will take everything that comes my way if you're always at the end waiting for me," Quinn placed Rachel's hands on her heart and caught some of the tiny girl's stray tears with her free hand, "To the ends of the world and to the depths of hell and back, if you're by my side. You make me invincible, pretty girl," Quinn leant in, "You're my Angel," Quinn kissed Rachel with all the love that her heart held.

Rachel was more than happy to return it, wrapping her arms around Quinn's neck and shoulders, holding the blonde tightly to her, fearing she would disappear if she let go. Quinn's own arms wrapped around the petite duchess's waist, and pulled her into her lap. Unfortunately for Quinn, her penis decided to react at this moment.

Rachel felt it hardening under her, and instead of the usual disgust she felt at this (note: Jesse's fault), she felt her own arousal match that of the blonde's. Quinn, though, kept her self-control on hand. She pulled away from Rachel, and blushed profusely. Looking around, she noticed that Rachel and her were the only ones left in the dining hall. She looked back at the brunette in her lap and was surprised to see her biting her lip, trying to suppress a smile. A smile of her own plastered itself on her face, and she let out a bashful laugh when Rachel muttered, "Don't get me wrong, I love the fact that I can turn you on so easily. It makes me feel wanted, desired..." They were both blushing by now.

Quinn cleared her throat, "Uh... Sebastian, can you make sure that we get dinner sent up to our chamber, please?" She looked at the cook, who answered straight away, "Sure thing, Lady Quinn. Your supper will be right up," Quinn nodded, and looked back to Rachel, who was looking curiously at Quinn's still hard dick. She teased lightly, "You know? Asking to see it might be easier than just staring at it and trying to guess the size," Rachel blushed a darker shade of red and pushed on the laughing blonde's shoulder.

Rachel stood up and turned her back towards the blonde, pouting. Quinn also stood up, and held in a whimper when the still-too-tight breeches rubbed against her hard-on. She hadn't noticed how much worse the rubbing got when she was hard. She had been too preoccupied with getting away from that Alexa girl that the rubbing had been more uncomfortable.

She stood behind Rachel and wrapped her arms around the girl's waist, putting her chin on the brunette's shoulder and mumbled quietly, "Do you think we could walk like this, with you covering my front? Having a hard-on is kinda awkward by itself, but when it's on me, it will freak some people out..." She got the result she was looking for; Rachel started giggling and turned around in her embrace. She rubbed her nose against the Musketeer's in an Eskimo kiss, and Quinn crinkled her nose adorably, "Yes, we can. You're an adorable meanie; you're lucky I love you," She pecked Quinn's lips, and got a full-blown smile in return.

They made their way to their chamber and mere seconds after Quinn closed the door, a knock announced the arrival of their supper. They ate surrounded by a comfortable and loving silence, every once in a while, feeding each other little bites of their supper. When they finished, and after Quinn placed the empty tray on the table outside the chamber, they got in the bed and snuggled together. "Oh, I almost forgot." Rachel stood up and went to her vanity where she picked something up.

Going back to Quinn she presented the blonde with her gold cross pendant. "I was afraid I had lost it. Oh, my God. Thanks, baby. Thank you so much." She kissed, and yen thought for a minute. She slowly unclasped the pendant and put it around Rachel's neck, softly pecking the delectable throat. "I want you to have it, for you to remember, every day that I love you and that I always will," Rachel pecked her on the cheek, whispering a 'thank you, baby' and snuggled back in the bed, arms around each other.

Rachel was in her new favorite place in the whole world, which was Quinn's arms. She was tracing the toned muscles of her lover's sexy arms with her fingers while Quinn played with her hair, once and again, burying her nose in those silky dark tresses. Rachel blurted out the one thing that was running through her kind at the moment, which was... "You have seriously sexy arms, my love." Quinn chuckled at this comment. She flexed for Rachel, who did the sexy lip-bite Quinn was looking for.

"Why do you say that, gorgeous?" She asked the brunette, who was back to touching the blonde's arms. "They're so... toned, and muscled. Not overbearing like any guys' would be. They're strong when they need to be, but soft whenever you're holding me. And before I forget... can I um... would you... can you..." Rachel stuttered and flushed a cute pink. Quinn raised an eyebrow, and, taking one of Rachel's hands and placing it on her firm abs, urged her flushing lover with a smile.

Rachel looked straight at Quinn, and got her question out, "Can I see it? Would you let me see it? You don't have to if you're uncomfortable..." Rachel shut her mouth when Quinn stood from the bed and went to stand in front of her. The Musketeer took a deep breath and, reaching for the belt that held up her pants, started to pull it apart. When she was done, she looked at Rachel, who gulped before nodding at her.

Quinn pulled down her pants and stood up. Her hands made their way to the hem of her shirt, and pulled it up and out of the way. Rachel's mouth dropped open at the sheer size of it. Quinn was definitely bigger than Jesse, but the size that Rachel had from that over-the-clothes estimate a couple of months back was definitely no match to the real thing, without any barriers.

Rachel got her voice back, and asked, "How big are you? When erect, I mean..." Quinn smirked and got Rachel's mouth to gape once more, "I'm pretty sure I'm bigger than your asshole of a husband," she quirks an eyebrow at Rachel, who was nodding in agreement, "Wait, how big is he?" Rachel blushed, it seemed that she was doing this a lot more often since Quinn arrived to Carlisle Castle, and into her life. She put the tip of her index finger on the second juncture of her thumb, "He's this wide, and about 6 inches long," she estimated. Quinn's smirk deepened, if possible. At Rachel's questioning gaze, she remembered that she still hadn't answered the size question, "Um... I uh..." she started to stutter and her cheeks flamed, "I'm... I'm 10 and 1/2 inches long and... would you mind measuring for me?" she looked down, and Rachel couldn't help but fall a little bit more at this adorably bashful Musketeer.

She moved closer to Quinn, and, as she knelt in front of the blonde, she gently grabbed the blonde's now semi-hard dick, and tried to wrap her hand around it. She gaped when she found she couldn't fit her whole hand around the penis. "You're so big, and only half hard," she marveled at her lover's girth. Quinn was trying to get her hormones under control. The sight of Rachel kneeling in front of her, touching her cock, was making things difficult.

Rachel stood back up and say on the bed, and Quinn internally sighed in relief. Rachel laughed lightly as Quinn's dick deflated right in front of her. Quinn felt she had to explain, "It's uncomfortable to go to bed with a hard-on, even when it is just a semi. And speaking of uncomfortable... do you think we could get a looser pair of pants? The ones Jesse forced me to wear were rubbing against me in a bad way." Rachel nodded and Quinn leant in and kissed her softly, "Thank you, Rach. I can't tell you how grateful I am for the things you do for me. I love you so much, baby," she kissed the plump lips again.

Quinn pulled the pants up, stuffing her now sleeping cock inside, but left them untied so they wouldn't squeeze her lower half. They both for into bed and cuddling, Quinn spooning Rachel and wrapping her arms protectively and lovingly around her, they both fell asleep.

_Rachel's dream_

_She woke up laying in a bed of roses, and once again, Quinn was nowhere to be found. She got out of the petal-covered bed, and she looked around once more. The windows let light filter in, telling her it was late morning. She walked to the door and opened it and there was Quinn, beautiful as ever, standing in the middle of a pool of emerald green grass, playing with a little blonde haired girl, the sun reflecting off of their hair._

_When Quinn threw the girl up into the sky, the girl giggled and yelled for Quinn. To throw her higher. As Rachel got closer to the pair, the giggling blonde in Quinn's arms yelled out, "Mommy! Momma, look mommy's awake," Quinn let the girl stand and she ran towards Rachel. Rachel caught her on her arms and pulled her up, the child kissing her on the cheek and snuggling into the crook of her neck._

_Quinn walked towards Rachel, and Rachel breath caught in her throat. How had she kissed the beauty of seeing Quinn's easy gait, muscles tensing and releasing as she made her way towards Rachel and... their daughter. Rachel smiled at that; their daughter. The little girl wiggled her way out of her grasp, and ran inside as Quinn reached Rachel._

_Quinn's right arm made its way to her back, while the left one moved to hook a soft tan thigh around her hips, pulling their lower bodies close together. Quinn's eyes sparkled with joy and love, and they fluttered close as their lips connected, tongues meeting straight away._

_Then the scene shifted; Rachel was now on her back, naked, while Quinn laid hot wet kisses on her jawline, her neck and her collarbone. She moved back up and captured the duchess's lips again. The kiss was nothing short of erotic, and Rachel felt herself gush at the intensity. Her hands fisted blonde locks and pulled her lips closer, as if wanting to devour her. Using the control she had over Quinn's head, she pulled the Musketeer's head back, exposing her throat. She bit it sensually, licking it afterwards. Quinn groaned and her hips bucked. Rachel felt her hard and throbbing against her left thigh. Placing the blonde head in front of her left breast, Quinn took the hint and started suckling her breast, nipping and licking at the nipple alternately_

_Quinn switched to the right breast and paid the same attention to it. Rachel was so turned on, one of her hands made its way down to the blonde's pulsing cock. She grabbed it and pumped it, roughly twisting the head, making Quinn growl deep in her chest. They kissed again and the ferocity of it had Rachel on the edge of cumming. Stopping her ministrations on the warm and smooth dick of her lover, Rachel placed it at the entrance of her pussy._

_Quinn looked at her, and after receiving a nod from her tiny lover, balanced herself on one hand as she helped Rachel's hand with lining up her cock. She pushed the head in slowly and when she caught Rachel's pained expression, she stopped and kissed her languidly. She then kissed the sensitive spot behind the brunette's ear, and at the girl's relaxed sigh of pleasure, she slowly started it push in again._

_She managed to sheath herself inside the tight, wet and warm cavern of her lover, and Rachel was breathing deeply. She made a split-second decision, and turned them over so Rachel was on top of her, riding her cock. Rachel held herself upright with her hands on Quinn's unyielding abs. She slowly moved her hips in a circular motion, getting used to having something so big inside of her. Quinn's hands on her hips help her gyrate faster, and, when she is completely relaxed around Quinn's girth, those hands help her bounce on top of Quinn._

_They moaned from the pleasure that being this intimate brings to them. When Rachel raked her nails from the base of Quinn's neck down the valley of her breasts and to her naval, leaving red trails behind, Quinn's pleasured growl did the job of sending jolts of heat to Rachel's clit. Quinn, then, sat up, and Rachel's gyrations begun once more, Quinn thrusting shallowly. The Musketeer groaned in the duchess's ear and then wondered "Do you think you can take me, beautiful?" and licked the shell of her ear. Rachel nodded, looking deeply in her lover's hazel gaze._

_Quinn rolled them over again, and stared deeply into loving and trusting chocolate pools. Rachel bent her knees and brought her feet around Quinn's lower back, locking her ankles behind it. Quinn thrust in slowly, getting Rachel used to having her dick moving in and out. The friction cause by the thrusts made Quinn groan and drop her head onto Rachel's sternum. As she went back into the brunette's tight pussy, her cock brushed against Rachel's clit, and Rachel moaned out loud, her nails leaving angry red marks down Quinn's strong back._

_Rachel felt the Musketeer's muscles bunching together at her back, rippling and solidifying under her touch. She could also see her abs, coated in sweat and flexing under the amount of self-control Quinn was using to keep her from ripping into her pussy. Rachel placed her hand on Quinn's head and pulled it up. Their gazes met and Rachel nodded at Quinn._

_Quinn started to thrust faster inside of Rachel, making her moan louder than before. Rachel really couldn't keep her mouth shut any longer, "Quinn, please go faster. Faster, harder!" Rachel's wishes were Quinn's commands, and she started thrusting faster into her lover. As Quinn sped up her thrusts, Rachel increased the pitch of her moans. Rachel could feel the pull in her lower abdomen, she was close. "Quinn, faster, I'm so close!"_

_From nowhere it seemed, Quinn found the energy to speed up even more. She moved her hand to the place where they were intimately joined, and started to flick her clit with her thumb. This was too much for Rachel to take. Her walls collapsed on Quinn's cock, "Quinn, I'm cumming. Oh, God, I'm cumming!" Quinn couldn't take the heat and the tightness and she came inside Rachel's pussy, filling her up and over the brim. When Quinn pulled out, she was still cumming, and her essence fell on Rachel's heated body, making her mewl and whimper in pleasure._

_Quinn groaned as she fell on the bed beside Rachel. They were both breathing irregularly and Rachel curled into Quinn. Quinn smiled lopsidedly when she felt her cum smearing all over her own body; it made her deliriously happy that Rachel didn't wipe her cum away. On the contrary, she was moving around, trying to cover as much space as possible. She wrapped her arms around the tiny brunette she fell for, and she smiled even wider when Rachel snuggled ever closer to her._

Outside the dream world, Rachel smiled and snuggled into Quinn, who was also having interesting dreams.

_Quinn's dream_

_Quinn was enveloped in a cocoon of warmth, love and trust. She awoke from her peaceful slumber and found herself alone. "Rach? Baby, where are you?" She stood up and started walking around in the darkness. "Sweetheart? Baby Rach, you're scaring me," her voice quivered accordingly. She heard noises coming from behind a door. She stepped up to the door, and placed her ear against it._

_The door opened before her, and strong hands grasped her upper arms and forcefully pulled them behind her back, her joints protesting the movement and making her scream in pain. She was dragged inside, was gagged and bound to a chair that was placed in front of the bed. Quinn's eyes widened when thy fell on the figure on the bed: Rachel, the love of her life, sprawled out on the bed, her legs spread wide, and Quinn could see a sticky, milky substance slowly trickling from her pussy._

_The silhouette of Jesse St. James made its way into the room; he was naked and hard. "Well, hello to you, little slut. I'm glad you could join us for this... this... perfect moment of our lives. I know that you have been going around thinking that Rachel loves you, but she really doesn't. She has been vying for my affections and, since I wasn't answering to her needs, she looked for a replacement in you. Once she figured out that you had the equipment, she wanted to try and make me even more jealous by whoring herself out to you while in my presence but I saw right through her charade, and I got her affections back." He backhanded her and she felt her lip burst at the ferocity of it._

_Quinn was crying, angry tears, pained tears. She didn't want to believe what Jesse was telling her, but Rachel got out of the bed and sauntered over to him. She places her hand on his rock hard dick and started to pump him. Then, she fell to her knees in front of him, and under Quinn's heartbroken stare, she started to lick him. From tip to base, the underside; she cupped his balls and brought them to her mouth, slurping loud. Jesse was moaning and thrusting his hips. Rachel took his cock inside her mouth and started to bob up and down, Jesse's hips pushing his penis deeper inside her mouth and down her throat._

_He pulled out as he came, his load dumping all over Rachel's face, who eagerly took it and swallowed the cum that had fallen into her mouth. She then stood up and jumped into his arms; he caught her and scrambled to put his still hard cock inside of Rachel. She moaned and started bouncing up and down on him, their moans and groans mingling and driving white-hot spikes into her heart._

_They both screamed out their orgasms, and as soon as Jesse pulled out, a baby made its way out of Rachel's womb. Jesse and Rachel knelt beside him, and Rachel picked him up, cradling the baby in her arms. Quinn looked on at the joyful trio, silent tears running down her cheeks. She heard a gun cocking, and felt the barrel at her temple._

_As Rachel and Jesse started making love again, their baby asleep in a crib at the corner of the room, she felt how the sounds and the sight of it ripped at her heart. Right now, she was pleading for the bullet to rip into her brain. She didn't have to wait long, though. As soon as Jesse and Rachel screamed out their climaxes, she heard a loud CRACK and fell into blissful oblivion._

Quinn sat up, a scream caught on her lips and tears falling from her eyes, her body covered in cold sweat. Rachel felt the movement and woke up, rolling over to look at Quinn who had scrambled from the bed and into the washroom. The sounds of vomiting reached her ears, and she hurriedly made her way to the washroom.

Quinn was curled into a ball, her back against the wall. She had her head on her arms, which were on top of her drawn-up knees. She was breathing erratically, sobs shaking her frame and breaking Rachel's heart. She knelt down beside Quinn, and placed her hand on Quinn's trembling shoulder. Quinn's head rose slowly and Rachel started tearing up when she saw the broken look on her lover's face.

Quinn kept crying as she softly placed a shaky hand on Rachel's cheek. Her crying intensified when Rachel put her own hand on top of Quinn's callous one. She untangled Quinn's limbs and brought her beloved Musketeer into her embrace. Quinn cried on the soft, tan shoulder she was presented with, her arms going around to firmly hold Rachel to her body. Rachel cooed into her ear, softly brushing blonde locks and playing with the sensitive tendrils at the back of her neck. Quinn's sobs subsided in time, her still-trembling body the only memento of her ordeal.

Rachel brought Quinn's head out from its place at her shoulder. "Baby, what happened? Why were you crying?" Her chocolate eyes searched in their hazel counterparts the answer to her questions. Quinn took several deep breaths to calm her racing heart. The residual images of her worst nightmare appeared in her mind's eye and they burnt at her heart, constricting it, ripping into it with claw-like sharpness. She closed her eyes and shook her head, opening them up to find Rachel's loving gaze staring right back at her.

They silently made their way to the bed, and, after getting in and snuggling together, Quinn retold her nightmare to Rachel, "I woke up alone, in this bed. I didn't know where you had gone, so I started looking for you. I heard noises and came up to a door, behind which the noises originated. Then, the door was flung open and strong hands grabbed me, pulling me inside and tying me up to a chair, gagged. The chair was in front of a bed and in the bed... in the bed, it was..." she broke off and Rachel let her cry, softly calming her down.

She pried, "Who was in the bed, baby?" This made Quinn break down into sobs once more; in the middle of it, she started up her story again, "It was you. You were in the bed. You were naked and laying spread-eagle with a look of pure satisfaction in your face, cum spilling out of you. And Jesse walked in and started telling me how you didn't really love me, how you were just using me to make him jealous. And then you knelt in front of him and started sucking him off, and as he came, he just shot it all over your face and you just took it and swallowed the amount that was in your mouth. Then you sorted riding him, and he came inside of you and then a baby popped out. And you both were cooing over him and you looked so happy. And then you went back to the bed and started having sex again. This time as soon as you both came, I was shot in the head and that's what woke me up..." she finished, dropping her head, tears rising at the memories.

Rachel kept holding her and, in a quiet but determined voice, she exclaimed fervently, "Quinn, I do love you. Before I met you, I thought that my future consisted of living under Jesse's rules, being his wife while he went around fucking other women. As soon as I found out that he was in on the war against France, I thought that it was just one more problem to add into our already failing marriage," she held Quinn's head up, so she could look into those beautifully honest hazel eyes she loves so much.

She continued, the previous tone taking on a loving passion that shone in Rachel's eyes as well, "And then you came into my life, and you were so beautiful, so angelic... And then I found out Jesse planned on fucking you, if not raping you, and I couldn't bear the thought of him touching you. I didn't know what it was, but when you crashed into me while you ran from his guards and told me what you said..." they both blushed at the memory, "I knew. I felt it in my heart; a flutter that Jesse has never been able to provoke. I knew that, if anything happened between us, I wouldn't be able to hold my feelings in any longer." Rachel pulled Quinn's hands to rest on her heart.

Quinn looked into the eyes of the love of her life, and rested her forehead against Rachel's. She knew in her heart as well that, no matter what happened to her, Rachel would always hold her heart. And she held the tiny girl's precious heart near and dear to her own. Rachel blushed under Quinn's heated gaze; it reminded her of her dream, and what happened afterwards made her blush even harder and she bit her lip.

Quinn noticed this and, moving her own head under the duchess's so she could look into her beautiful girl's eyes, inquired, "What's wrong, Baby Rach? Why are you so shy all of a sudden? Talk to me..." She adorably bumped her head into Rachel's sternum, earning herself a giggle. She smiled and she quirked an eyebrow, pulling a defeated sigh from Rachel. "Fine, I'll tell you... but promise not to laugh!" At Quinn's nod, she sighed again. "I had a dream. And in the dream, you and I had beautiful baby girl," Quinn's beaming smile was radiant, like the sun had come out from between a bank of dark, menacing clouds.

Rachel matched it with one of her own, and she continued, "I mean it, Quinn. She was perfect; she was a perfect combination of you and me. She had your hair, and you nose and your cheekbones, and she had my smile, and my eyes. Her voice was a blend of both of ours. She was the most gorgeous little girl. And she was ours Quinn. Our love child," Quinn was now smiling so wide, she thought her cheeks would split.

She kissed Rachel's lips, and Rachel returned it with all the loving devotion that her heart held. They were soon laying on the bed, Rachel on top of Quinn, small tan hands swimming in a sea of blonde and pale, toned arms wrapped around a soft, tiny waist. Tongues met languidly, slowly savoring and tasting each other. Quinn ran her lips down to Rachel's neck, slowly licking and nipping at it. Rachel moaned, the other half of her dream still very much present in her mind. She broke away from Quinn's embrace and ran to the window. Quinn chased after her, and encased her in her arms once more. She twirled her around on the spot, and Rachel giggled loudly.

Quinn set her down and quietly whispered her inquiry into her lover's war, "Are you hiding something from me? Baby? Please, tell me. I don't wanna resort to... other... methods of questioning." Rachel giggled again, and turned around, pecking Quinn's lips. "Alright, I'll tell you, my adorably sexy and strong Musketeer..." Quinn rose her eyebrow and smiled amusedly.

"After I saw our daughter, she wiggled out of my grasp. You walked up to me and kissed me passionately. Then, we were laying on a bed and we started making sweet, ardent and libidinous love." By now, Rachel was pressed into Quinn, and, with a voice that dripped lust and wanton promises of sex, whispered sultrily into the taller girl's ear. "You were so big inside of me, Quinn, and you were pulsating and i could feel it. I almost couldn't take you all the way inside. But you were patient with me and waited for me to adjust to your size before you started to move. It was so hot, just like I've imagined it. You were coated in sweat and your muscles were bunching and tensing and releasing under my hands, and oh, God, it was the hottest dream and the most vivid I've had in my life..." She was cut off by Quinn's mouth slanting over hers, taking possession of it in an instant. The blonde's hands anchored on slim hips and aided the Musketeer in grinding her clothed erection against the duchess's clothed pussy.

They both groaned and picked up their rhythm. They were kissing and swallowing each other's moans and grunts, but nothing Rachel did was subduing Quinn's feral growls. These were such a turn-on for Rachel, who just screamed her lover's name even louder. The whole castle could probably hear her... _But who cares? I've got a sexy, strong, loving, really well-endowed and hard Musketeer who I'm so deeply in love with in my grasp, and although we're not making love right now, I can't wait to do it at a later time... _They both came screaming out each other's name into the night and finished their amorous concert with a sweet kiss.

Rachel moved Quinn's sweaty hair away from her eyes, and ran her hand through the wet tendrils several times, pulling the blonde back into her for another kiss. This one slower, sweeter, more subdued than the rest of them. "I love you, my handsome Musketeer, Quinn Fabray" Quinn smiled and whispered right back, "I love you too, my Duchess, Rachel Berry." They got back to their bed and fell into blissful slumber, happy to be asleep in the other's protective embrace.

_Jesse_

_I can't believe that slut! Flaunting her romance with that French whore in front of my face! I'm her husband, she shouldn't be out looking for someone else's affections. Or sex, for that matter, because she has ME! _He lifted his hand up to rub at his temple, but jerked it out of the way when she felt the tender, bruising skin that was the product of his unfortunate tête-à-tête with the French Musketeer.

His nose had just stopped bleeding, but it was gonna be swollen in the morning. His eye was swollen shut and the bruise spread from the inside of his eye socket, closer to his nose, all the way to his hairline, beside his temple. The left side of his face was faring so much better than his right; only a split eyebrow and a cut to his cheek.

He then was brought out of his musings by a loud moan. Followed by another... and another... and a fourth one consecutively. The whole symphony of Rachel's affair with the enslaved Musketeer was cutting through the night air and into his office chamber. He looked outside his window and could see them, iridescent from the moonlight and sticking out from the candlelight inside their chamber. They were kissing and moving and moaning... He couldn't take it. He roared and tore into his study with all the hot-blooded anger of a wounded animal. _I'll make her pay, I'll make them both pay. Nobody makes a fool out of Jesse St. James, especially not a French-birthed bitch with an inhuman defect._

A final moan was the catalyst to him tipping his desk over with inhuman strength. Some of the maids came in, worried about whatever was happening to their Lord. "Clean this mess up!" He yelled at all four of them and left, his footsteps pounding down the hallway. _I wonder if Alexa's still up at this hour... Doesn't matter, I'll wake her up soon enough,_ was the last coherent thought in his head.

_Puck_

_Damn, those two are gonna bring the castle down. If Jesse heard them, he's probably gonna be an ass tomorrow morning... Oh, well, not any different from his usual._ A hand caressing his pecs made him wary of his bedmate. "Come on, baby, let's go to sleep. Tomorrows gonna be a long day," Anna whispered, pecking him on the lips. He nodded and, holding Anna tight to his body, he went to sleep.

* * *

><p><strong>That was a surprise, definitely. Or not so much?<strong>

**Reviews make me happy... they make laugh. So make me laugh, review! :)**


	10. Games of Jealousy, Temptation and Fate

**I bring this chapter to you all to finish 2011! A lot of things happen.**

**Sneak Peek: Brittana is back! And Jesse's planning some nasty shit for our dearest Faberry.**

**I don't know shit about English currency, so I just put down a number and a coin.**

**Also, I don't remember if I said in an earlier chapter that by now, this story is differing from the Dumas storyline. I had to make a reasonable excuse as to why the Musketeers are fighting in La Rochelle if it's a supposed 'religious' reason. And, I don't know if there are rabbits in Northern Engalnd, but let's just pretend for the sake of the story.**

**I DON'T OWN _ROMEO AND JULIET_ (although I'm a bit of a boss for doing that scene by memory). _R & J_ belong to William Shakespeare, who is also, not mine.**

**Sorry for the long A/N, but now on with the chapter. Enjoy :)**

* * *

><p>Two shadowed figures, sat astride two horses, moved quietly through the woods of northeast England. Both tall, and lean, with breeches, boots and blue coats with a silver-trimmed cross in the chest covered over with dark hoods, pulled over their heads. Both carried sheathed rapiers strapped to a belt around their waists, along with secondary weapons; both carried hidden guns, and one held a dagger, the other a pair of short swords.<p>

"The bastard better have told us the right place, otherwise I'll go back to France, find him and hang him by his balls with a hook through his dick." The voice sounded irritated, and its companion nodded their head in agreement. "San, I don't think that our methods of... 'questioning' would let him get away with a lie like that. He had too much to lose..." The second voice was placating, airy and reasoning. They both pulled their hoods down, revealing their faces to the crisp, English winter breeze.

One face, tan with high cheekbones, full lips, a straight nose and dark chocolate eyes, looked around their location, searching for something that could give them a clue as to where they were. Her companion, a pale, blue-eyed blonde, with soft-angled features, was meanwhile checking a map. She fixed their current location on the map and whispered the coordinates they were looking for to her companion. The tan girl pointed silently in one direction and they trotted away.

Santana and Brittany had been looking for Quinn during the English ambush right outside HQ, but Santana only managed to spot a blonde head fighting out the first line of the English attack. But after the Musketeers started rushing out to fight back, she lost sight of it and she couldn't lose focus while looking for her. They managed to hold a handful of English mercenaries, who promised information in exchange for their lives and freedom. Santana made it clear that they were in no position to bargain.

(Flashback)

_Listening to the chair-bound man spewing off unimportant information about the ongoings with the English army. Santana lost her patience and the whimpering man took the brunt of it. "Listen to me, you little shit, we know everything we need about the ongoings with the armed forces to stop them in their tracks. Now, I'm a person with a very short fuse and not a lot of patience, so you're gonna tell me where they took the blonde girl your buddies ran away with NOW, or I can run my rapier up your dick and you can tell me then. Either way you're gonna tell me!" The man took deep breaths, tears escaping his eyes and mingling with the perspiration running down his face._

_He trembled when Santana's blade ran down the side of his face, slicing the skin open, and making his fists tighten in pain. He caved when he felt the blade closing in at his throat, "Carlisle Castle! They've taken her to Carlisle Castle, in Cumbria County, Northern England. The man that contacted my comrades and I, he is the Lord there. He inherited the lands from his father, may God rest his soul, and he lives there with his wife, his servants and his soldiers." He started laughing hysterically, and Santana couldn't find a reason to ask him why._

_Albeit, she didn't have to. "It doesn't matter if you manage to make it there alive, his guards will quarter you, tear you to pieces and hang them on his dining hall, not before fucking you for believing two filthy sluts could go up against the will of a man!" His head careened to the side, the burning sting of Santana's palm on his cheek._

_She got close enough to smell blood and sex on his clothes and skin. Her face twisted in disgust, and she grabbed his face, pulling her around to look in his eyes. "You are a sack of English filth. I have more than enough reasons to believe that I can go up against any man and come out victorious. How do you think you're in here? Who do you think got you here? If the location you have told me proves to be false and Quinn is not there, I will come back and you're gonna wish I had killed you instead of taking you prisoner," she let the threat hang in the air._

_She turned to the door to leave when he venomously spat, "Fuck you, you repulsive French whore!" Santana dropped her head, and her body shook. The man thought she was crying until she opened her mouth and let out a fearsome cackle. The mercenary shook in his boots, the chair he was tied to rattling with him._

_She turned her head back to him, the derisive glint in her eye making him recoil. "I already got someone to do just that..." she opened the door to find Brittany standing outside, a short sword in her hand, twirling the hilt between her long fingers. Santana grabbed the blonde by the back of her neck and pulled her in for a scorching, out-of-this-world kiss. Brittany sheathed the sword with one hand, the other already making its way around Santana's waist. Santana pulled away, a small grin in place, "... and I'm Spanish, not French." she closed the door on the man's loud-mouthed obscenities._

(End Flashback)

Brittany pulling on her arm made Santana's mind leave France and get back to her body, which resided on a horse, in Northern England. She noticed the sun was almost gone, and they forced their horses to pick up their pace. They came across a small, family-owned bed-and-breakfast. Santana went to the woman that was sitting behind a big desk. "Hi, excuse me? Could you tell us how far it is from here to Carlisle Castle?" Santana asked the old woman, who looked up at the polite interruption. Her big eyes were a jade green, her face lightly tanned, and her white hair held under a bonnet. She smiled at Santana, who couldn't help but smile back.

"Of course, dearie. You and your friend are at about day and a half from the Castle, going by horse. But it's starting to get dark, and there's not a high possibility of finding an open place if you keep going any further. There's a room open upstairs, if you two would like to take it. The regular cost would be five shillings, but for you, I'll rent it out in three." The lady smiled and Santana handed her the money, as the back door opened and a strong gust of wind blew in. The three women held their fluttering clothes to their bodies, and, as soon as the door had shut, the lady spoke to whomever had entered. "Love, remember I don't like you working so hard outside, in this weather and after dark, I wouldn't know what to do without you," she breathed out and two different chuckles cut the silence.

A voice, definitely a woman's voice, retorted good-naturedly, "Liz, I've been working out in this weather my whole life. A little gust of wind is not gonna tip me over," another woman, the same age as Liz, judging by her appearance, stepped out from the back. Tall, slim, but with a muscled body from the manual labor she pointed out she has done for the better part of her life. Dark, indigo eyes cut through Santana's soul as she looked into them. Movement to the right of the woman had Santana looking at a tall, shapely, grey-eyed brunette.

The soul-staring woman held out a hand, "I'm Aimee, that's my wife, Elizabeth and our daughter, Amber." She introduced as Santana shook her hand, not minding the callouses that littered it. "Santana, and my... my girlfriend, Brittany." The aforementioned blonde waved from her place by the crackling fire. Santana moved to the fire, as Aimee moved to Elizabeth's side and kissed her tenderly.

The dark-haired Musketeer couldn't help but silently wish that she would find the kind of forever love that everybody looks for, and not a lot find in their lifetime. And sometimes, when they do, they let it go for something that turns out to be not what they wanted. More than anything, she wishes for that forever love to be found in the form of a tall, blue-eyed blonde Musketeer. She shook her coat off and placed it in front of the fire to dry the damp cloth.

"Dinner will be ready in a few minutes, in case you haven't eaten," Elizabeth locked the front door, and turned to a door that, undoubtedly, lead to the kitchen. Aimee went to the master bedroom to change the damp clothes into something dry, leaving the two Musketeers and Amber alone on the small living room. The grey-eyed brunette was eyeing their French guests with something akin to respect. "Are you guys soldiers, or something? 'Cause that's kinda cool," her voice was quiet, and it reminded Santana of Quinn's calm yet determined tune.

She smiled ruefully, "Either or. We train, we fight, we protect our country and our King against forces that threaten to overthrow it. We don't fight against people that have different ideals than ours; we just stand strong with ours and let them live with theirs. We don't force then to change and we certainly don't force them to choose between their ideals or their lives." Santana was on a roll, her anger taking control of her mouth.

"You're French Musketeers, aren't you?" The brunette locked eyes with the Spaniard, who nodded mutely. Amber continued on her train of thought, "Isn't what you're saying contradictory to what you're doing? I've heard of the siege at La Rochelle; I know that they're religious refugees persecuted by the Cardinal and the Musketeers for going against what the Church says." Amber sounded so disbelieving at the thought that Santana would try to lie to her face.

Santana laughed humorlessly, and Amber looked on, anger rising in her blood at the Musketeer's obvious disregard for having been found out. "Kid, I'm sorry but you don't know anything about what's going on with the Huguenots at La Rochelle. We are not persecuting them for having a different set of beliefs. We are persecuting them for treason against the Crown; yeah, I bet you didn't know that did you?" Santana got a little satisfaction out of having bested the younger brunette, as pitiful as that victory was.

Amber, however, was not giving in. "Then, why are the Cardinal's Musketeers there as well as the King's? If the motive is treason against the Crown, what is the leader of the Catholic Church doing there? There's no logic behind that." Amber's voice had an unasked question begging to come out.

"The blue-coats needed a shield. If the people of France found out someone threatened their beloved King, they would've taken the law into their own hands. The best way to keep it under wraps was to pass the reason off as something Church related in order to create enough leeway for us to get there." Santana took a breath and locked eyes with Amber, before finishing, "Now, people just think that the Huguenots forces were bigger than imagined, and that's why the Cardinal needed the King's Musketeers. Just for backup," she shrugged and turned back to Britt, who reached up and held her hand, intertwining their fingers.

Amber took a deep breath, and with a determined glint in her eyes, she announced, "I wanna help you, with whatever it is you're doing in England. And, if you'd let me, I wanna go back to France with you and become a Musketeer." Santana rose a bemusedly disbelieving eyebrow, and smiled lightly. "You know how to fight, kid?" She inquired, and another voice answered from behind the Spaniard.

"Yes, she's trained with me. All hand-on-hand, since we don't have any sort of weapons in this house. I know you doubt my level of expertise, but, um... I... I used to practice with someone I think you're familiar with. Sue Sylvester? We got in fights every day, and we never stopped until I moved here while she stayed in France. I hear she became the first woman to join the Musketeers?" Aimee moved to stand behind her daughter, with one hand on her shoulder. Santana nodded, and replied, "Yeah, she did. There was a rumor floating about that she needed to be bested in battle to join the ranks of the blue coats. The rumor is... somewhat scary in its own right. It's always tough to train with yourself in mind, but to train in order to beat someone else for a spot... it pushes you to limits unknown to the mere mortal." Santana's voice carried respect for the Musketeers' second-in-command.

Aimee nodded, and Amber hurried to ask, "So, is that a yes? I'm a very good student, an incredibly fast learner." The two Musketeers looked at each other, and nodded after a few seconds of telepathic conversation. "Yeah, you can come with us. We'll be leaving early in the morrow, for Carlisle Castle. We have someone we have to rescue before we go back to France. So you'll be helping us out with that. Go now, pack a sack, and after we sup, get a good night's rest." Santana took charge, and Elizabeth's voice rang out form the kitchen, calling them for dinner.

* * *

><p><em>Quinn<em>

After a great morning cuddle with Rachel, the blonde got down to the arena, wanting to get some energy out. None of the guys were there, so she busied herself with some endurance training and muscle toning. Crunches, body twists, push-ups, and speed trials occupied the blonde's mind, making her body heat up and drenching her clothes in sweat. Deeply focused on her workout, Quinn didn't hear the footsteps behind her. A heavy hand on her shoulder turned her around, offsetting her balance. A hook to the jaw sent her tumbling down to the dirt.

Jesse's wavy head appeared on her field of vision, and taking opportunity of her laying down, she chambered and drove the ball of her foot into his stomach, making him bend over and placing his head where she wanted it. Pushing off of his stomach, her knee made satisfactory contact with his face, making him cry out in pain. While he was distracted with his (most probable) bleeding nose, she rolled over and regained her feet, crouching down.

With her center of gravity low and her senses on high alert, Quinn's chances of getting away from Jesse's grasping hands skyrocketed. This was if their encounter were to be strictly hand to hand combat. Seeing Jesse picking up the long, wooden handle of a broken spade tickled Quinn's fight or flight instincts. _I'm a Fabray, and he's not gonna scare me._

Now the scales were heavily tipped on his favor. He swung and she moved back, muscle memory resetting her low center of gravity. _Balance is essential when fighting any opponent_, her father's words rang in her head. She nodded to herself, as she repeated silently, "Balance is essential when fighting any opponent." Jesse swung again, and she sidestepped, out of the way.

_The best way to score a counterstrike is... _"...not being in the way of the attacking strike to begin with," Quinn mumbled to herself. Her palm made contact with the wooden handle, pushing it away as she scored an elbow to Jesse's ribs. They both felt the snapping and Quinn stepped away from Jesse, who was on the floor, hand gingerly on his ribcage.

"Fabray, we're not done here! Get back! We are not done!" He managed to stand, albeit off balance and unsteady on his feet. "We're not done... I won't let you run away on me!" He spat, his eyes narrowing and his breath erratic. Quinn shook her head, "We're done! It would be taking advantage of a wounded opponent, who obviously can't even stand upright. I may be many things, but one of those things is a fair fighter. I'll let you get fixed up before fighting you again." She turned to walk away, and missed Jesse's seemingly proud and respecting stare. She thought a moment and turned, looking him in the eye. "I don't like to win easy fights; they're a waste of my time. I like a challenge, in basically all aspects of my life," she spoke, and her words made his decision more final. He knew head chosen right, and he smiled to himself as she walked inside the Castle, to the library, knowing Rachel would be there.

As she thought, Rachel was sitting on a couch, her legs tucked underneath her, a book open on her lap. The blonde slunk her way towards her chocolate-haired lover, and when she was right behind her, she blew into her ear, "Have I ever told you how sexy you look while reading?" Rachel chuckled at the whispered question and shook her head 'no'.

The Musketeer jumped over the back of the couch and wiggled herself comfortable behind Rachel's tiny frame. She grabbed the book, and looked at the cover, smiling at the title. She placed her head beside Rachel's so she could hear the words coming out of her mouth, "_If I profane with my unworthiest hand, This holy shrine, the gentle sin is this: My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand, To smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss._" The blonde did as she spoke, kissing Rachel tiny hand.

Rachel replied to her utterance with one of her own, "_Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much, Which mannerly devotion shows in this; For saints have hands that pilgrims' hands do touch, And palm to palm is holy palmers' kiss._" She enunciated placing her palm against Quinn's, smiling at her lover, who continued reciting, "_Have not saints lips, and holy palmers too?_"

Rachel moved her was down in a nod, responding, "_Ay, pilgrim, lips that they must use in prayer._" The duchess stood up and walked away from Quinn, turning their game into an act. "_Oh, then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do; They pray; grant thou, lest faith turn to despair._" Quinn stood behind Rachel, breathing the words into her ear, passion lacing each of them. Rachel fought to hide her arousal at her lover's emotion, replying with erratic breath, "_Saints do not move, though grant for prayers' sake._" She could feel her handsome Musketeer mere inches from her back. The next words broke her resolve in pieces, scattering them to the wind, "_Then move not while my prayer's effect I take. Thus from my lips, by thine, my sin is purged._" She gently turned Rachel's head towards her own, and fiercely crushed their lips together.

The tiny duchess turned around in her lover's strong embrace, and wove her hands through the shaggy and slightly damp blonde mane, pulling those soft lips even closer to her own. A groan escaped from deep within Quinn's chest, her own arms wrapping around the brunette's small waist. Their tongues met, they slipped and slid together, tasting one another. Rachel was having a hard time not rubbing her body against the Musketeer's built frame. She could feel the taller girl's muscles, unyielding against the pressure she was unconsciously putting on them.

They slowed down their kisses, not stopping completely and regaining their breath. Quinn could feel how hard she was getting under the breeches the brunette had gotten (see: stolen) from Jesse's wardrobe, without Jesse suspecting anything. The blonde slowly walked them back to the couch, letting herself fall and catching Rachel's body by placing her hands on slim hips. The brunette placed her legs on each side of the blonde's hips, making the Musketeer's raging erection brush and press against the apex of her thighs, making the pint-sized brunette gush in her panties with building desire.

They were moaning and groaning into each other's mouths, their bodies subtly grinding against one another. Quinn's hips were bucking into Rachel's, her calloused hands stilling the duchess' hips above hers and pushing them down onto her own. Rachel's hands pulled Quinn's blonde head down to crush their lips together over and over, their kisses getting harder and harder.

They couldn't continue without the need of oxygen getting in the way, and they pulled apart, breaths ragged and erratic. Foreheads placed together, eyes lovingly looking into the pair in front of them, lips curled into giddy smiles. Quinn's blonde mane softly moved to the side of Rachel's head. "I love you, my gorgeous English Duchess." Quinn breathed into her love's ear, licking the shell afterwards. "I love you, too, my handsome French Musketeer." They kissed softly, sealing their declarations of love.

"FABRAY! To the arena! NOW!" Jesse's voice cut through their love haze. The double doors of the library swung open, slamming against the walls. The duke's shadowed frame blocked the entryway. His eyes found them on the couch, Rachel straddling Quinn, their lips swollen from kissing. His passive face turned into a slight smile, as if he were sharing a joke with them. "Now, Fabray!" His voice carried into the library and Rachel unconsciously shrank into Quinn, the blonde's arms wrapping tighter around the tiny girl.

Quinn cooed into Rachel's ear, nuzzling her cheek and brushing her silken chocolate locks away from her face. "Don't worry about him, Rach, I'm sure all he wants to do is finish the fight we started. If he tries anything, I can protect myself. Or you, were it necessary for me to do so. Don't worry about him. I'm right here, baby, focus on me. I'm here to protect you, he's not getting anywhere near you without going through me first," she soothed Rachel's fears. She pulled her head away, and kissed her tenderly, ignoring the fact that the duchess' husband was standing right behind them.

"Fabray, I want you in my army and for that, I need you to train and fight. So let's go!" He left, the reverberating symphonic residue of his voice bouncing around Quinn's mind. The eagerness in it was nothing compared to the blow Quinn's psyche received when she heard that she was to join Jesse's army. Her hazels met Rachel's tumultuous chocolate pools, the worry and apprehension she felt reflected back at her. Rachel got off of Quinn and pulled the blonde into her once she was standing as well.

Rachel felt Quinn pull away from their embrace and, with a kiss to a smooth, tan forehead, the Frenchwoman silently left the library. The duchess covered her mouth, a sob leaving her plump lips. She walked out of the library and made her way to the arena. Jesse saw her approaching and managed to intercept her before Quinn saw her. "Listen to me. I know that you love her, I do, and I understand that I never had you to begin with. But please, understand me when I say that it does hurt my ego when I see my wife hanging off of the arm of a Musketeer. Just try to keep it under the radar for a little while, okay? I don't want any of the guards to attack her just because they think you're being unfaithful to the Lord of the House."

He turned to the arena and she took this chance to frown lightly at his words, but he turned back to her with a mischievous smile on his face. "And tell her what a beast she is in bed. I was in my study and I heard you two going at it like you would die if you didn't cum right at that second." She flushed bright red and he laughed amusedly at her obvious bashfulness. He went to join the fighters, leaving Rachel to her thoughts.

_What is wrong with him? Just yesterday, he got in a fight with Quinn for kissing me in the dining hall, and now he's happy for us. He's happy that I'm in love with a person that's not him... He's planning something, I can't reason any other motive as to the sudden change of heart. _Rachel's eyes caught Quinn's lithe frame, and her mind fogged up at the vision of a sweaty, muscle-flexing, feral Quinn sparring a bare-chested and sweaty Puck. _Somehow, sweaty and feral Quinn manages to turn me on while sweaty and bestial Puck just makes me want to throw up._

Quinn's firm and toned muscles rippled and bunched under the loose white shirt, catching Rachel's attention and the brunette found herself nibbling on her bottom lip and tracing her eyes over the body of the Musketeer. Unnoticed by her, Jesse was looking at her out of the corner of his eye.

Rachel's aroused mind took her to an image of making love to Quinn, which took her to marrying the blonde, which brought about a way to get legally separated from Jesse while being able to marry Quinn under the blessing of the Church. She made her way to her chamber, her plan taking shape in her mind.

After practice, Quinn went for a quick stroll around the Castle's grounds. Her ears caught pounding on the ground, and she turned mid-step. Three hooded figures on horseback were coming down out of the woods and down the side of a hill, hurrying towards her. She turned and ran, her legs carrying her through the grounds of Carlisle Castle.

The figures on horseback were closing in on her, fast. She tripped over a hidden rabbit hole and her knee caught the sharp edge of a rock, slicing it open. Fire shot through her leg, blood gushing from the deep cut. She rolled onto her back and held her knee between her hands, putting pressure on the wound and painting her fingers with blood. _This is just great. First, my back, and now this. Oh, well, I got no other choice but to let these hooded riders catch up with me._

The hooded trio slowed to a trot and approached her. Quinn's defiant hazel eyes never wavered from the riders making their way to her. They slowed a few yards away from Quinn, and one of the riders dismounted and walked to her, hands outstretched to show her that the person was harmless and wasn't planning to attack her. "Quinn? Is that you?" Quinn's eyes widened to the size of saucers. _Santana!_

"Tana! Oh, my God! You don't know how much I've missed you!" Santana rushed to her blonde pseudo-sister, and gathered her into a tight embrace. They both laughed as they bounced excitedly, since Quinn was on the ground and she couldn't jump. The other two figures neared the joyful duo, one figure handling the riderless third horse.

"Is that Brittany? Did you two get together while I was gone?" Quinn disbelieving laughter filled the grounds. Santana smiled, fighting a blush, and nodded. "Yeah, by the time we left the tailor's shop, we both knew that there was something between us that we couldn't ignore. We've uh... we've been together ever since. We haven't, you know... crossed the threshold yet, but we've agreed that it should be when we're both ready, not just cause we want it." Santana's usually boisterous tone had taken a free fall, getting lower as she spoke of her relationship with the Swiss girl. Quinn smiled, and told her own tale of romance.

"Well, you are not the only one with a lover, Santana. I, uh... I have also... met my better half and I'm in love with her. She's... she's beautiful, Tana, just gorgeous. Her hair... and her eyes... and that smile... and her voice... God! Santana she drives me wild. Just with a look she gets me so..." she lowered her voice so that only Santana could hear her, "...so hard! And we're both wanting it, but she's married." Santana had to laugh at that. "You fell for a married woman? Holy shit, Q, that crap only happens to you." The dark-haired Spaniard continued to laugh, but Quinn's next words made her stop and stare at the blonde. "She loves me back. She knows what I look like, she's aware of what I am, and she loves me back..." Her voice broke, and tears started to flow.

"I'm such a freak, I'm an abomination, and she manages to love anyway! I'm inhuman and she still cares! I'm a monster, I almost killed her husband with my bare hands and she still holds me close to her at night, when we're in bed. I lost control of my anger and almost take the life of a man, and she held me while I cried, she calmed me down and cuddled with me!" The hazel-eyed blonde was now bawling brokenheartedly. "How can I deserve her? She's an angel in my path, and I'm just a mortal, a mere human bound to commit impure and filthy acts upon others. How can she see more in me than there actually is?" Santana held the girl, in her arms, and signaled for Brittany to get clean gauze, some water and a bandage to clean Quinn's sliced knee, the one the blonde had seemingly forgotten about.

Not surprisingly, Quinn later passed out due to emotional exhaustion and extensive blood loss. They managed to get her on Shadow's back, and the blonde's trusted stallion seemed to sense that his owner needed to stay still, for he trotted along with them without jostling Quinn's limp frame too much.

They got behind the arena and dismounted, Santana and Brittany getting Quinn down from Shadow's back and Amber looking around for anyone that could be potentially dangerous. Moving to a covered bench where fighters sat waiting for their turn in the arena, they set Quinn's body down and started to wrap her knee in a more practical manner. They were untying Quinn's knee when a voice stopped them. "Hey, what are you doing?" A head full of blond hair rushed to them and Brittany snapped to action.

She intercepted the running man and threw him over her shoulder, flipping over him and ending on top of him, a knife to his neck. He felt the sharp blade and dared a look at the unconscious body. "Is that Quinn? We were wondering where she could've gone, Rachel was going bonkers." At the mention of the blonde's name, Brittany stood and helped him up.

The soldiers made their way to where Santana had finished wrapping the blonde up, and just in time, Quinn started to regain her senses. "Where am I? Why does my head hurt? Hey, Sam. How are you, Brittany? Who's the new chick?" All queries were mumbled, half-assed sentences that Quinn blamed on her dizzy-as-all-fuck head.

They brought her into the Castle, specifically the dining hall for her to eat something as introductions were made and stories were swapped. Sam smiled at the stories Quinn and Santana recounted from the earlier days of their sisterhood. The door to the dining hall was opened and Rachel bounded in, a look of worry across her face. Worry was soon replaced by fiery jealousy as she saw her blonde Musketeer holding hands and smiling at some dark-haired girl sitting in front of her.

She decided to play nice, "Quinn, where were you? I was so worried when the boys came back and saw you weren't with them." She raked her fingers through the blonde mane, completely missing Santana's evil glint. Santana let her fingers dance on her pseudo-sister's abs, making Quinn raise an eyebrow.

Replying with a hidden wink, Santana spoke, her husky voice a slap to Rachel. "Q here was out lounging on the grounds when she lost track of time. I saw her and decided to keep her some company; she looked incredibly lonely." Everyone but Rachel was trying not to laugh, knowing it would blow Santana's story. "Then I noticed that her knee had been sliced open and was spraying blood everywhere. So I took care of her, cleaning her wound and bandaging it up so it could get better." Santana sent a toothy grin to Rachel, who was shaking in rage. _How dare this... this... this harlot try and steal my charming and handsome Musketeer away from me? I'll show her..._

Rachel bent over Quinn, and looking her in the eye, whispered, "I hope you're feeling better, baby." She gave her a peck on the lips, she couldn't afford to molest her in front of everyone in the hall. Santana directed her inquiry to Rachel, "Oh, are you that woman that Quinn couldn't stop talking about? I mean, she really couldn't stop talking about you. She was all like 'her eyes and her hair and her smile and that voice. I'm so in love, she drives me bananas!' I couldn't get her to shut up for the life of me." Santana smirked and Rachel realized she had been played, although her response to Santana's verbal prod gave none of her feelings away.

Quinn smiled, and moved to stand up, placing most of her weight on her good leg, and hobbling in place. Rachel caught her arm, stabilizing her and earning herself a loving smile. Santana shook her head minutely, and felt Brittany grabbing her hand, and squeezing it. None of them noticed the looks between Amber and Sam.

* * *

><p><em>Jesse<em>

Sitting at his desk in a newly spotless study, Jesse thinks of how to make Rachel and that stupid French bitch pay. _Gaining their trust is essential to their downfall. I'll have to back up from their 'romantic relationship'. Please! I'm sure all Rachel sees in that whore is a good fuck, just someone to give her a good time... She's only staying with her because I haven't been giving her enough of Papa Jesse. And now that the plan is in motion, I can't exactly go back to bad-mouthing that filthy Musketeer._

He runs his hands through his wavy locks in expels a breath through his nose, leaning back in his chair and thinking some more. His eyes widened with the formation of an idea, a sliver of delirium coating his pupils. _The Annual Ball of Janus! That's it! The Nobility already knows that this year, it will be held here, at Carlisle Castle, on the eve of January the 31st. _He smiled and unconsciously stroked his dormant dick, the thought of so many women entering his mind; beautiful women, rich women, women hungry for some spice in their lives.

He felt himself getting hard, and fast. _Let's see what Alexa's up to right now. I'd go to town and look for an easy lay, but it's kinda dark out and people would get suspicious._ He stood and left his study, looking for his copper-headed minx.

* * *

><p><em>Quinn and Rachel<em>

Clearing the air between her lover and her pseudo-sister left Quinn exhausted, not mentioning the gash in her knee was being a bitch and was making her lightheaded. With Rachel's help, she managed to walk (note: stumble) to their chamber. They made it and Quinn slumped against the wooden door, her hands uselessly hanging at her sides.

Rachel laughed at the adorably amusing blonde, and opened the door, catching the Musketeer before she fell and hurt herself... again. But the blonde was a dead-weight, and she only managed to catch herself with her hands, not putting any pressure on her limp knee. She crawled, with Rachel on her back, towards the bed and standing up carefully, she deposited her most treasured cargo on the soft mattress. Her eyes spotted an unsealed, folded piece of paper and was going to inquire but Rachel's tired voice pulled her own fatigue into the forefront of her mind. "Quinn, let's get to bed. I know that you were sweaty this morning and you probably stink right now, but there's no water ready. You can wash tomorrow, after Anna gets the bath ready."

Quinn nodded and stripped down to only her breeches. She chuckled when Rachel couldn't seem to take her eyes away from her naked torso. She half-turned, and laying on her elbow, she reached up to take the brunette's lips hostage with her own. Rachel moaned and fisted the blonde mane she loved, roughly tugging it the way Quinn liked. The feral growl from the Musketeer made her smile into their kiss.

"You better put on a shirt before anyone sees the sexy body of my Musketeer. I wouldn't want anyone stealing you away," she breathed out, pecking Quinn's lips once more. Quinn smiled, thinking that Santana and Brittany were probably ripping each other's lips off right at this second, just a couple of feet down the hallway. Shaking her head, she cuddled into Rachel's warm back, wrapped her arms around the tiny brunette's equally tiny waist, and, pulling her into her body, laid down to get some well-deserved rest.

* * *

><p><strong>REVIEW, REVIEW, REVIEW. It will make the best beginning for the New Year. :)<strong>

**Sorry for having so much Jesse-intrusion in this chapter. I don't mean to anger anyone. And the Ball he's talking about? I don't personally know... I think I made it up but I can't be sure. _ Lol**


	11. Messengers

**Short chapter, mostly filler. There's not a lot of things going on, but the few that are WILL BLOW YOUR MINDS!**

**There's a few reasons as to the letter that Rachel sends to Cardinal Richelieu; I'll explain more of that at the end of the chapter.**

**Since I got nothing else, enjoy :)**

* * *

><p>Sometime after Quinn's breathing evened out, a wide awake Rachel slowly pried herself out from her Musketeer's warm embrace. A disgruntled sound from the sleeping blonde had Rachel freezing in position, not wanting to alert the slim Frenchwoman to her plans so soon. After making sure that Quinn was still asleep, Rachel tiptoed out of their chamber, softly closing the door behind her.<p>

She looked around the hallway and, seeing no one, she made her way down to the soldier quarters, not alert as to the shadow encased figure trailing close behind her. The scuffle of a shoe had Rachel's back tensing and she turned to find... an eerily empty hallway. She let her eyes sweep over the hallway once more before turning back around and feeling her way to her destination.

The figure slowly peeked around the corner, and her eyes caught the cautiously moving figure of the duchess, almost at the end of the hallway, where the staircase going to the North and South wings split and led to the living quarters. The figure stepped out of its hiding place and kept quiet; it wouldn't do if the duchess couldn't trust them anymore.

Groans were heard, bouncing and echoing through the castle's stone walls before getting lost in the alternately moonlit and shadowed corridors. The tiny brunette stopped in her tracks, the figure behind her doing the same. There they were again; deep groans and the odd scream reached the pairs' ears. Rachel decided to take a different route to her final location, and followed the odd noises that reverberated inside the cavernous castle.

She stopped in front of a chamber that she had never visited. With the door ajar she took a peek at the inside of the room. Lit candles illuminated the inside and threw offsetting shadows. Her eyes observed clothes littering the stone floor, and raising her eyes, they fell upon the scene taking place on the bed. She stifled a gasp at the image her eyes presented her brain; Jesse laying on his back on the bed, a copper-haired girl on top of him, and a burly guy she didn't recognize behind the girl.

They were moaning and groaning in unison, three sets of hips keeping a steady rhythm. The girl bowed her back at a painful-looking angle; the guy behind her grabbing and pawing at her breasts, making her whine with need. Sitting up slightly, Jesse started to piston his hips back and forth making the girl whimper even louder. The girl's hands grabbed onto Jesse's shoulders as the guy behind her pulled out and covered her back in cum. The couple, who were still going at it, took several minutes to reach their own edges. Jesse shuddered as he came inside the girl, and, seconds later, she got off of him and sat with her back against the wall at the head of the bed. Her legs were spread and tempting the guys in the room with a tantalizing view of her pink and beat-up pussy.

Jesse knelt on the bed, putting his ass in the air, and started to lick the girl's wet pussy. The other guy apparently knew what to do in this situation; he stood behind Jesse and placed his hardness on the wavy-haired duke's asshole. He pushed it in slowly, dragging a moan out of Jesse. Not stopping his oral ministrations on the girl, Jesse started to move his hips back onto the guy's hard manhood, groaning in the process.

Rachel had seen enough; she slowly moved away from the wooden door, her stomach churning and her throat burning with the need to vomit. She went into another chamber, and sat down at the desk. Unfolding the still unsealed letter, she wrote a new letter, adding this new information she had just gathered. She signed it and sealed it with the House of Carlisle Crest. She put the name of the recipient on the front of the letter. _Cardinal Richelieu; here's to hoping you can help me._ She hurried her way to the soldier quarters, and, stealthily going inside, she found the blonde head she was looking for.

She dragged him out of the soldiers' living quarters, and she gave him specific instructions. Her shadowed stalker chose this moment to make themselves known. "What's going on here?" Rachel and Sam turned to face the new comer. Unknown to the first stalker, they had been followed by someone else. "Amber, what are you doing out of bed? You're gonna alert everyone to our presence and I don't think they're gonna like it," Santana's voice made Amber cringe.

Rachel grabbed Sam's arm and pulled him out to the stables, with Amber and Santana on their heels. The foursome gathered in the shadowed bench where Quinn had been unconscious mere hours before, none of them sitting down. "What I'm about to tell you, will not be repeated into someone else's ear. This matter is of extreme importance, and no one can know about it. Sam," the duchess looked at the blonde soldier, who was hanging onto her every word, "I need you to go into France, find the Cardinal, and deliver this letter to him. The letter contains information that I think His Eminence will find enough of a reason to separate me from Jesse, legally and under the Church. This letter has to be delivered! The future of some people, other than and including myself, depends on this. The Cardinal has to get it." Sam nodded, but a look of confusion clouded his features.

"Milady, with all due respect, I've never been to France. I don't know how to get to the Cardinal's Palace..." Sam trailed off, and Amber decides to help him. "I've been to France several times, one of which was recent, and I know how to get to the Cardinal's Palace. I can go with him." She sounded so excited by the prospect, and Santana interjects.

"This could be potentially dangerous if anyone finds that this letter is en route to France. You can't be caught. There is too much at stake here, and as Rachel said, if anyone gets their hands on this letter, namely Jesse, there's gonna be hell to pay." The dark-haired Musketeer reached inside her robe as pulled out a second parchment, a decoy for the letter Sam held. Rachel looked astonished at the cunning abilities of the Spaniard.

"It never hurts to be prepared. This was a fake that I had to make in case of robbery. The letter sent was to the Cardinal and the King requesting aid in a matter that is already solved. Nothing happened, fortunately, and I kept this in case something else arose. Now, you need it more than me since this letter has the power to potentially destroy some people. This is the reason that makes the letter valuable if someone were to read the contents. That's why you'll need this." She handed the decoy to Amber, who took it and hid it in her robe.

They kept talking about organizing their departure for the following night, not knowing there was an unaccounted fifth member of their moonlit rendezvous that will do everything in his power to make sure that the letter did not reach its destination.

* * *

><p><em>Quinn<em>

She was violently pulled from her slumber, by a pair of arms roughly grabbing her limbs and tying them to the bedposts. A blindfold was placed over her eyes and tied behind her head, obscuring her to her surroundings. She struggled and writhed, trying to free herself from her captors, but the bindings holding her down restricted her movement, and hurt her ankles and wrists. She lost her energy very fast, her still sleepy mind dragging her down.

She could feel faint movement on the waistband of her breeches, pulling her pants down. A familiar voice spoke into her ear, sending a chill of fear down her spine. "I believe we have some unfinished business that we need to attend to. And now, you can't do anything to stop me." Quinn was letting her other senses take over.

She could hear Alexa's voice on her left, and the bed dipped on the sides of her hips and the sides of her head told her where her hands and knees were located, and the deeper indentations nearest her head made her aware that Alexa was leaning forward. She could also hear faint shuffling in the room, and from her earlier struggle, she guessed two other people were in the room. She concentrated on feeling the bindings holding her down.

She felt the bed dip as Alexa sat back and moved down the bed. She widened her eyes as she felt the dainty hand on her cock, trying to rouse it for her to play with it. Quinn had never told anyone, not even Rachel, that her dick now had a specific trigger. She knew her buddy wouldn't stand if it knew that the person touching it wasn't Rachel, or if Rachel wasn't in the near vicinity and Quinn's field of vision. So, in short; if it wasn't Rachel, Quinn would not get hard. It was some psycho-physiological wonder that Quinn didn't understand.

She mentally grinned when Alexa's frustrated groan reached her ears. She focused again on feeling the bindings; the one tying her right leg down was kinda loose and the same could be said for the left army's binding. She minutely moved those limbs back and forth, wiggling them out of their roping. When she got it, she schooled her body to stay still as she released her other limbs.

She still wasn't hard, and she almost laughed when a voice taunted Alexa, "Apparently, her dick doesn't like you. It knows what an easy slut you are and it doesn't wanna fuck you." Both men laughed heartily, and Alexa got back at them with an equally low blow. "So what does it say about your dicks since they got hard as soon as you saw me doing a remotely sexual act?" The laughing assailants stopped at the statement, and Quinn held back a raucous bout of laughter. She used this momentary distraction to free herself of her bindings and, pushing Alexa away from her, she took off the blindfold and let her breeches fall as she sprinted down of the room, with her assailants on her heels.

She ran through the Castle, the moon her only witness to her predicament. The blonde took a second to laugh at the irony of her streaking around the Castle. _I thought I'd never do this, not even when Lord Dickweed put me into that uncomfortable pair of breeches. _She ran and turned a sharp corner, running into someone else. Hands grabbed her before she fell down, and her dick's reaction warned her as to who it was. _Oh, shit! I'm streaking, half naked, in the middle of the night and Rachel is the one to find me. Just perfect!_ Quinn cursed her luck, as Rachel held her arms.

"Quinn, are you okay? You seem agitated and your heart is racing. Did you have a bad dream?" Rachel's voice soothed her frazzled nerves, and she breathes a sigh of relief. She lunged at Rachel and hugged her tightly, her arms encompassing the small duchess. Rachel returns the hug; she likes this affectionate side of Quinn. That's when she feels it, pressing into her abs, hard and unyielding. "Quinn, are you wearing any pants, at all?" Quinn stiffened under the question and pulled away from her lover.

She shook her head, shaggy blonde locks a whirlwind on top of the Musketeer's head. Rachel smiled lightly and snaked her hand down to the blonde's rock hard cock, stroking it lightly and getting a low groan from the blonde. Rachel's tinkling laugh tickled Quinn's ear, and the duchess lifted her free hand, and hooked around her neck, bringing her head down and taking the blonde's lips with hers.

The kiss was short, but not any less loving or passionate. Rachel grabbed the Musketeer's calloused hand and pulled her from their current spot. They silently made their way to their chamber, where the evidence of Quinn's abuse was still tied to the bed. Rachel raised an eyebrow at the scene, and Quinn explained that she had been ambushed and tied to the bed. How she had been almost sexually used by this Alexa chick for the viewing pleasure of God knows who, since she didn't know who the two other assailants were.

Rachel listened and, when Quinn was done, she kissed her lightly on the forehead and untied the ropes from the bedposts. "I'm glad that you could get yourself out of this, I'm also impressed. Three people were necessary to tie you up, and you got yourself out. You're amazing you know that?" she wrapped her hands around Quinn's neck, kissing her hard and long. Their lips slanted and their tongues met and slid over one another, tasting and teasing.

They pulled away, smiling at one another. They laid down in their bed, Quinn directly on the bed, Rachel on top of her, cuddling close to her body. Their smiles never left their faces, even in blissful sleep.

* * *

><p><em>Jesse<em>

_Well, fuck! That sneaky little French whore managed to get out of our grasp once again. At least she didn't see that I was there. I can't have them figuring out my plan. I'm so close to getting what I want, the way I want it, and they're not gonna stop me! _His hands curled into fists, the fingers of one hand digging into pliant skin. A pained whimper made him release his fingers.

A knock at his door made him leave the comfort of his bed, and the warmth of his bedmate. He put on a pair of breeches and opened the door. "What?" He snapped at Roman, who was waiting outside the door. Roman whispered into his ear, and Jesse's face turned into a scowl, and then a sneer. "I don't care how you do it, but you have to intercept that letter. It cannot reach the Cardinal! Bring it back to me or it's your head that I'm gonna be cutting off!" He whispered irately, and Roman nodded his understanding.

Jesse went back to his bed, and notwithstanding Alexa's slumbering form, he got on top of her and started fucking her, his anger turning him into a bloodthirsty beast. Alexa's screams of pain were not heard by anyone other than her and the man currently pounding into her. Jesse didn't let up until Alexa was somewhere near unconscious from cumming so much. Then he laid on the bed and, his mind on overdrive, didn't let sleep take him prisoner.

* * *

><p><em>Quinn and Rachel, the next morning<em>

Being awakened by hard, non-stop pounding on the door was not the way Quinn wanted to roused that morning. "Love, go see who it is, and, unless someone's dying or dead, tell them to leave," the duchess' sleepy tone brought a smile to the blonde's face. She kissed the top of disarrayed wavy chocolate curls and went to open the door.

As soon as the lock was out, Santana and Brittany burst into the chamber, leaving a dumbfounded Quinn by the door. She pushed it shut and locked it once more. She went back to bed and snuggled into Rachel's warm back. Santana broke the slumbering silence, "Quinn, I wanna ask you something." Getting nothing more than a muffled 'hmm' in response, the dark-haired Musketeer continued. "How are we supposed to eat, if we're supposed to stay out of the radar of Lord Whatever-his-name-is?" Quinn rose and pulled a rope.

This rope was one in an intricate device that went from the chambers throughout the Castle to the kitchens, and each rope had a designated bell with the chamber's occupant's name on it. By pulling this rope, in the kitchens they would know to send Anna up to Rachel's (and Quinn's) chamber. However, Santana didn't know that. "Was that supposed to magically make food appear out of nowhere? I'm serious, Q, we're starving. Amber's got that Sam dude to feed her, and we got you, so do your freaking work and..." She was cut off by a sharp knock to the door.

Quinn's muffled voice said, "That's Anna, open the door and tell her you need breakfast. And to bring some for us, as well. Thank you, darling." That's what she had said, but not what it sounded like to Santana. At her raised eyebrow, Brittany made it concise. "That's the person that is gonna bring food for the four of us." Santana nodded and opened the door.

A girl, no older than 18, stood facing her. She opened her mouth, and Santana didn't wanna take chances. She grabbed the girl and pulled her inside, where she started to ask all these questions. The rattle woke Quinn and Rachel up and they watched as Santana pulled stunts to keep the girl from reaching the door. Rachel saw fit to intervene when Anna was close to biting Santana into submission. "Anna, please calm down. There's no need to make such a ruckus; these are Brittany," the bubbly blonde waved from her position at Rachel's desk, "and Santana, who you've made friends with already. They're Quinn's friend and sister, respectively." Anna flushed and started spewing apologies to Santana.

The Spaniard nodded and smiled, appeasing Anna's guilty conscience. "Well, you rang?" Anna asked. Santana replied, "Yeah, we rang. Sorry, but we're starving; we haven't eaten since breakfast yesterday, and after all the commotion last night we sort of forgot to feed." She blushed, and Quinn chuckled. Anna nodded. "Sure thing. I suspect that you two..."she looked at the bedded couple, trailing off. Rachel nodded mutely, a small smile on her face, and leant against Quinn.

The blonde threaded her fingers in her lover's luscious hair, planting a kiss on the crown of her head every now and then. Rachel turned her head and gave her a peck on the lips, whispering loving words that Quinn returned with another kiss.

The food was brought up and Quinn and Rachel laid back while Santana and Brittany ate. "So, who's that Amber chick? Where did you find her?" Quinn's query was lost amidst the loud munching and crunching that Santana was taking a pleasurable part in. Nonetheless, Brittany heard her, "We were somewhere in Northeastern England, and it was getting dark. We found a little bed and breakfast and we decided to stop for the night. There we met the owners; Aimee, who used to fight with Mme. Sylvester, her wife Elizabeth and their daughter Amber. She asked if she could come with us to Carlisle Castle and then to France to become a Musketeer, and we agreed. And here we are," she explained to the other blonde.

Quinn nodded her understanding, as Rachel sagged sleepily against her. As soon as Santana and Brittany finished, they went back to their own room, giving Quinn and Rachel privacy to do _whatever_ they did in the mornings. Quinn rose an amused eyebrow at that comment, but otherwise said nothing. Rachel got their food and brought it back to the bed, snuggling back into Quinn. They ate in comfortable silence, exchanging kisses and caresses now and then.

Once they finished, they put the plates on the tray and Rachel put it on the hallway table for one of the servants to pick up. She padded back to the bed where Quinn was languidly stretching, her shaggy blonde mane wildly sticking up in every direction. It made her giggle, and the blonde arched a questioning eyebrow. "Your hair," Rachel let out and Quinn smiled, shaking her head around. This fixed her mane a little and Quinn looked at Rachel, who nodded approvingly. "Better than bed-head," she placed a hand in Quinn's mane, softly running her fingers through the locks, scratching the Musketeer's scalp.

Quinn shivered pleasurably, and pulled Rachel to her. "Good morning, beautiful," she saluted, giving her a kiss, which the duchess returned contentedly. They parted, smiling and Rachel replied, whispering, "Good morning, baby." They kissed again, slower, more tenderly. Rachel pulled away, littering kisses on the blonde's strong jaw, and down her neck, making Quinn moan lowly. She got back up to the Musketeer's lips and kissed her again.

They placed their foreheads together and looked into each other's eyes, love and devotion swirling in pools of hazel and chocolate. They whispered in unison, "I love you," and they smiled. Quinn kissed her on the cheek, and a knock on the door got the blonde out of the bed and limping to the door. She had completely forgotten about her knee; she looked down at the gauze covering it and saw a spot of seeping blood. _I'll have to change it, I don't want Rachel to make a lot of fuss over it._ She opened the door and Anna stepped in, warm water in hand.

"You two will probably bathe together so I just brought one. Enjoy," she filled the tub with the water and Quinn smirked at Rachel, who rolled her eyes, amusement written all over her face. Anna came out of the washroom and handed Quinn a couple of cloths and a small vial filled with a translucent, yellow liquid. She whispered something to the blonde and she nodded. Anna left, and Rachel locked the door behind her.

The duchess sauntered over to her tall, blonde lover and kissed her tantalizingly, ghosting a finger from the base of her throat, down the valley of her breasts and over the chiseled abs, and back up. She went into the washroom, Quinn on her tail. They undressed slowly; both knew that nothing would happen, but they had to wash up. Quinn took deep breaths, calming down her hormones and willing her penis to stay limp. She smiled at it when it didn't stand, and she got in the tub with Rachel. They washed themselves and each other, careful about where they touched. Quinn's hands didn't touch Rachel's perfect breasts or down to her pussy, just the same that Rachel didn't touch Quinn's breasts or her cock. They both wanted their first time making love to be special and not in the washroom, because they couldn't keep their hands off of each other.

They troweled off inside the washroom, but a knock on the door got their attention. Rachel went to answer it, a small smile on her face from her bath with Quinn. The smile dropped when she opened the door and her eyes caught Jesse standing behind it. "Hey, I was wondering if we could talk?" he said as he walked in, not even noticing her state of undress. He turned to face her and his brow furrowed when he saw her in only a robe, her hair damp.

_Obviously, fresh out of the bath. _His eyes caught on a small water drop and trailed it down her neck and into her robe, to gently caress at her breasts. His eyes darkened and he felt himself grow hard. He crossed the space between where he stood and her, pushed her against the door closing it and her trapped against it and his body. Her eyes widened in fear when she felt him, hard and straining under his breeches, pushing against her.

He brushed his rough lips on her neck, licking the spot. Rachel's stomach turned in revulsion, the contents wanting to come back up. His hands engulfed her breasts, squeezing them painfully, and she screamed in pain. Jesse felt hands grabbing his shoulders and pulling him backwards. A fist flew at his face, knocking him backwards. He stood back up and watched as Quinn, also dressed in a robe and damp haired, knelt beside Rachel's body, curled up in a ball and sobbing.

_They were in the washroom, together, probably fucking!_ His rage didn't show externally, his face shaped itself into a mask of regret. "Rachel, I'm so sorry. I don't know what came over me, I'm sorry!" He apologized, and strode out of the room, his face morphing into the outraged beast he held inside as soon as he was out of the chamber.

Inside, Quinn gathered a sobbing Rachel into her arms and carried her to the bed, tucking her in. She gave her a light kiss on the forehead, and Rachel started to calm down, her sobs subsiding and her sniffles the only sound in the room. "He... he almost... I couldn't... he was..." Rachel couldn't manage to get her words out, but Quinn shushed her, rocking her back and forth in her arms. "It's okay, baby, I'm here to protect you. He won't hurt you, I promise," she spoke into her ear, Rachel holding into her tightly.

"He's planning something," it was a quiet mumbling under her breath, but Quinn caught it as it cut through the silence. "I don't know what it is, but he's planning something, I'm sure of it," Rachel's whisper filled the room with apprehension and anxiety. "Yesterday, while you were sparring Noah, he told me that he would let us be. That he wouldn't try to separate us and that he understood that I now belong to you," Rachel recounted, her brow furrowing. "But how he acted right now tells me something's going on. He's too possessive to just let me go into someone else's arms."

Quinn pondered that as well. _Whatever he's planning, it's got something to do with my sudden placement in his army and with Alexa's advances on me as well. We can't let our guard down, not while near him anyway._ She reassured her lover once more, "I won't let him near you. You're too important to me, I can't and I won't lose you... not to him and not to anyone." She whispered firmly into Rachel's hair. _I'm gonna need Santana's help. If he's planning something against us, it's better to have backup._ She resolved to fill her sister in on everything.

But right now, that could wait. Rachel needed her, she needed her support and she needed her strength to get past Jesse's almost rape attempt. She felt her tiny duchess's grip tighten around her torso, and she hugged her back, silently promising Rachel that she wasn't going anywhere.

* * *

><p><strong>Feel free to shit on Jesse's life; I would! He just keeps getting worse by the second. :)<strong>

Alright, so the deal with the letter is the following:

Rachel is looking for a way out of her marriage with Jesse. Now, way back when, if a woman got separated from her husband, she was looked down upon and treated as crap by the rest of society. But, if the Church granted her legal separation from her husband, it was all well and good. And society would shit on the husband, instead. The reasons as to how the Cardinal can get Rachel separated from Jesse are:

1) Marriage was never consummated. When I said that they've had sex in the second chapter, I meant it to be only oral sex, or a hand job for Jesse. The Church didnt see these things as consummating a marriage; for that there was supposed to be penile pentretation. In the letter. Rachel mentions that she is, in fact, still a virgin and that her and Jesse had never had any actual sex.

2) Jesse's being unfaithful. Combine this one with the previous reason, and you've got a pretty good case that will most likely get you separated.

3)If any of you caught this reason, I put it there on purpose: Jesse's a sodomist. After the little sex scene that Rachel witnessed, I had her write a new letter and adding information in. Sodomy was, I don't know if it still is, looked down upon by the Church. So the fact that Jesse is a sodomist will most likely be his downfall in the eyes of the Church.

Any of these three reasons, by themselves, will make any clergyman think about whether or not the reason itself is sufficient to break the marriage. Any combination of two will heighten the possibility to break the marriage. All three and that marriage is as good as over.

**I AM NOT CLAIMING THIS WILL WORK ALL THE TIME! I'M JUST POINTING OUT THAT THIS WILL BE SO IN MY STORY. If you have any questions about this, you should go ask your lawyer or your local cleric for more in-depth information.**

**REVIEWS ALWAYS MAKE ME HAPPY, AND THEYLL PROBABLY MAKE ME WRITE EVEN FASTER... *hint, hint***


	12. Surprises, Surprises

**Long chapter! Whoo! For everyone that has been waiting patiently for this, I give you this chapter. It's sort of a filler, but a LOT of things happen. Thou shalt shit bricks when you're done with this installement.**

**I don't wanna say anything, lest I give something away... So, enjoy :)**

* * *

><p>The two horses sped through the forest, their riders coaxing out all of their muscular energy. The horses panted, but their legs didn't give. The riders knew that they were being followed but they weren't sure how many trackers they had on their trail. One rider, a tall blond man, pointed to a path that veered off to their immediate right, and his companion, a svelte brunette, nodded and both turned into this veered off path.<p>

They soon lost the pounding of hooves behind them, their trackers unaware to their sudden change of ground. Sam and Amber led their horses across Northeastern England to an English dock on the East where an unmarked commercial ship awaited them en route to France. They had a letter to deliver.

* * *

><p><em>Quinn and Rachel, Carlisle Castle<em>

Not letting Rachel out of her sight for the rest of the day, Quinn did all she could to go about her normal routine of practicing and training with the boys. The only downside was the desirous and lustful looks Rachel would unconsciously send her way while the blonde sparred with the boys. This only managed to increase the blonde's competitive side, wanting to show off for her girl.

The effort was well worth it, for Rachel took possession of her lips as soon as she was out of the arena. Quinn wasn't complaining; she had a gorgeous, sexy brunette ravishing her lips as if she hadn't eaten in days, and Quinn was not gonna deny her. So, in front of all the guys in the arena, Rachel laid her claim on the handsome Musketeer. They were soon surrounded by catcalls, wolf whistles, and hollers; all of which were started by a joyful duo that consisted of Puck and Finn.

Hearing the commotion around them, both girls pulled away, breaking their kiss. They leant their foreheads together and smiled lovingly at each other. Rachel was the one to break that contact, grabbing the calloused hand of her lover and pulling her inside. They went to the library, and they occupied their usual couch. Quinn sat down with Rachel sitting sideways on her lap.

The brunette laid her head on the blonde's strong shoulder, breathing in the combined scent of sweat, dirt and something that was uniquely _Quinn_. In anyone else, she probably would've been repulsed and would've avoided that person at all costs, but there was something about Quinn that made her want to change everything that had once been important to her, but seemed meaningless once Quinn waltzed into her life.

Rachel played with the damp baby hairs at the back of the blonde's pale neck, and Quinn shivered pleasurably. Soft, pink lips kissed the tanned column of flesh that was in front of them; Rachel moved her head to give Quinn more space to work with. The duchess had something in her mind, but Quinn wouldn't pry unless Rachel started the conversation; the blonde didn't have to wait long.

"There's a ball coming up in a fortnight. And I was wondering if you would like to attend with me?" The duchess felt heat taint her cheeks and lowered her head to hide her blush from Quinn, who caught the brunette's chin between her thumb and forefinger and pulled it back up. Hazel liked into warm chocolate, and the blonde uttered, "Yes, I would love to go with you. But won't the other attendees wonder what's going on when they see the Lady of the House hanging off of the arm of a soldier, and a female, no less?"

Quinn's query did raise a good point, but Rachel had it covered. "I'm sure Sam can lend you some clothes. And it's a masquerade ball, so everyone will be wearing masks of some sort. No one will know the difference. Except for me, of course." Quinn arched an eyebrow, and smiled, amused. "You've already got everything planned out, don't you?" Rachel small smile gave her away. "Maybe; I've been thinking about it since the night we declared our love for one another."

Quinn smiled, leaning in and kissing the plump lips that tempted her in her dreams, and tested her self-control every single day. Rachel placed a hand on the pale cheek of the blonde, and tilted her head to the side, slanting her mouth over Quinn's and quickly deepening the kiss. They fought their usual tongue war that smoothly transitioned into a well-practiced tango. A moan was replied to with a groan, a whimper responded to with a mewl, and their amorous concert reached its crescendo. Their ardent kissing was broken by the lack of air, and they panted quietly, arms wrapped around each other.

Tan arms wrapped around a slim torso, and the duchess placed her head on Quinn's chest, her ear right over the Musketeer's strong heart. Quinn's head lowered itself on top of Rachel's, her arms wrapping around Rachel's svelte frame. Their sweet moment was interrupted by the sound of running footsteps and Jesse ran inside, the very image of fear itself.

His hair, usually combed and wavy, was matted to his forehead with perspiration, the strands hanging limp and disarrayed. His eyes were bloodshot and a few tears of relief were falling down his grimy cheeks. He ran towards them and knelt in front of Quinn, "Please, help me! You can't let them get me! Please, I'll do everything you want. Just please, save me!" His voice trembled with desperation, and the earlier tears of relief succumbed to tears of anguish and despair.

His hands grabbed and pulled at the hem of the Musketeer's shirt, the saline evidence of his agony dampening the fabric. Quinn looked to Rachel, who returned her gaze with a look that meant 'be careful, we know he's planning something'. Quinn nodded minutely, before acting as though she actually believed him. "Hey, don't worry, alright? I got this!"

As soon as those words left her mouth, three figures dressed to the nines in black entered the library; black shoes and breeches, black shirts and a black head covering with a face mask. They had swords in their hands and the Musketeer recognized the blades they used. _Spadas de Lato, but why do these guys have Italian blades? As far as I know, the name St. Jerkwad is not well known outside of his little Castle. So who are these guys? _Quinn's thoughts were interrupted by her instincts, yelling at her to _move!_

Rachel and Jesse fell back to the wall, while Quinn occupied Jesse's pursuers. They watched as the blonde moved with such agility and grace; to Rachel, it was the most erotic and sensual thing ever. _Maybe waiting till the night of the Masquerade to give myself to her is pushing the limits of my sanity, _the duchess thought, entranced by her lover. Jesse, though, was harboring a whole different feeling.

_Are you fucking shitting me? She can fight like any soldier and take on anyone without breaking a sweat, she has the looks, she has the smarts, AND she can fight multiple opponents simultaneously as well? Can she FLY? This is not possible!_ Jesse was raging inside; although his face remained the scared mask he had used to get Quinn to fight these masked figures.

Quinn rolled to her side, and turning into a 360 sweep, she kicked the legs from under one of the figures. He fell, smashing his head against the marble floor. A sickening crack resounded, and Quinn took the opportunity to arm herself. She grabbed the side-sword from the unconscious body on the floor, his hand limply holding onto the blade. She turned in a parry, just as a masked figure took the open opportunity of a blindside attack. The blades bounced off of each other, but the fearless Musketeer had the advantage of being lower to the ground.

While the standing figure smashed his blade on hers over and over, she drove the heel of her palm into his knee. The force behind her strike was enough to lock the knee for an instant, just enough for her to twist her torso, letting the swords slide dangerously close to her face, and used her momentum to break her opponent's leg at the knee with her elbow.

The figure screamed and fell, holding his busted knee. The third swordsman just looked on at this lone blonde who just took out both his friends singlehandedly. He walked towards Quinn, holding his sword hilt up, a symbol that showed he meant no harm. Quinn stood and took several steps backwards, letting the masked man aid his injured comrades. "Snap his knee back into place. Otherwise, it won't get better." Quinn instructed in a low voice.

The figure didn't make any sort of sign of having heard her but a whimper made him turn sharply. Jesse had inadvertently given their hiding spot to the masked assassin. The figure moved towards them, but was intercepted by Quinn. Their blades crossed and both fighters leant against their respective weapon, trying to use their own body weight to throw their opponent off balance.

The black-clad figure was taller and heavier than Quinn, but the blonde's tense muscles were unyielding and firm, not giving any ground but holding her own. Rachel saw that through Quinn's leaning posture, an imaginary but perfect straight line from her heels to her head was formed. She may not know fighting, but she knows techniques of proper posture. In order to have a good balance and a good center of gravity while standing, the line from your heels to your head must be straight and uninterrupted. This was what Quinn was doing; locking her body in a straight line for more balance and less effort.

"If you want them, you'll have to get through me. And you've already seen what happens when you cross me," she threatened, her voice dripping with something akin to blind determination. _She'll never give up!_ Jesse yelled inside his head, he locked eyes with the figure and moved his head sideways a fraction of an inch. _No, it's not time yet. Leave!_

The masked assassin leant back and, picking up his unconscious comrade while helping his other friend to his feet, the three figures slowly made their way out of the library. Only after they had turned the corner did Quinn lower the spada de lato. Noticing Jesse was about to walk out of the library, Quinn stiff armed him and pushed him back to his former place, beside Rachel. _Oh, the irony of that statement._

Jesse was about to protest, but a glare from the blonde silenced him. She went on ahead, sword on hand, and walked slowly out of the library. She peeked around the corner, and, seeing no one, she signaled to Jesse and Rachel that the coast was clear. Big mistake... As soon as the blonde herself turned the corner, an arrow flew from out of the blue, and struck Quinn through the shoulder. The blonde didn't let the pain blur her senses, and turning the spada de lato on her hand so that she was grabbing the blade, she threw it like a dagger and it found its deadly mark, on the neck of one assassin. The same one that had the broken knee, courtesy of the now injured blonde.

Quinn fell to her knees, pain shooting through her body. The arrow had gone in through her shoulder and out her back, embedding itself on the fissure between two stones. Rachel ran at the aid of her lover, and knelt beside her. She brushed baby blonde strands of hair away from the pale face of the Musketeer. In the distance, running footsteps approached them. The voice of Puck spoke in her ear; something about a medic, a shoulder, and... _Quinn!_ She stood up, noticing the blonde had been taken away, wobbly on her feet and Puck helped her keep her balance. She turned to him, anguish showing in her eyes. "Take me to her, Noah. I need to see her, I need I know she's okay. Please!" She sobbed into his chest, the pain inflicted upon her beloved making her heart break into a million bleeding pieces. Faintly, she could make out Puck's voice, telling her that Quinn was fine, that it was just a through and through wound on her shoulder.

Her mind wasn't registering anything that he said, or the fact that she was back in her chamber, with Quinn laying on the bed and a doctor hunched over her, a white hot poker in his hand. She winced as she saw the tip touching Quinn's skin, cauterizing the open wound. Quinn was gagged, so her soul ripping screams of pain were somewhat muffled, but Rachel heard her. She heard every single ounce of pain on the prolonged note that the blonde had let out.

She watched, entranced, as the doctor grabbed thread and a needle, and started stitching Quinn's cauterized wound closed. He bandaged it, and put the blonde's arm on a sling. "She mustn't move it, unless she wants a repeat procedure." He warned them severely. Rachel nodded, and sat beside Quinn, grabbing her good hand. Quinn smiled, sweat dripping from her forehead. Rachel leant over and gave her a kiss on the forehead, her lips staying on the spot for a couple of seconds. She then looked Quinn straight in the eye and kissed her, hard.

Lips fought against lips, tongues were soon introduced in the war for dominance. Rachel took the lead and straddled Quinn's hips, not breaking the kiss. Tongues tasted, poked, slid and prodded at each other; moans and whimpers escaping both girls. Rachel's hips ground down on their own accord, Quinn's bucking in response. Their breaths were ragged and Rachel could feel Quinn's hardness pushing deliciously against her pussy. She couldn't wait...

She got off of Quinn, and pulled the girl's breeches down, her cock standing tall and proud in all its naked glory. Rachel grabbed it and stated to pump it; which was no easy feat since her hand didn't fit all the way around it. Quinn was lost in a sea of delirious pleasure; Rachel's hand, although small, was magic on her dick. The duchess' free hand also came in to play. She grabbed the blonde's scrotum, tugging roughly on the Musketeer's testicles, while she teased the septum with soft strokes of her thumb.

Quinn wanted to stop her, she didn't want her to do something that she might regret doing later, but with the pleasure Rachel was producing counteracting the pain her shoulder was causing, and her brain wouldn't let her speak. Her hips bucked on their own, and Rachel's hand was rubbing her faster and squeezing her so good. Quinn felt the tension in her balls, and the pull in her lower stomach. "Rach... Rach, I... uh... I... I'm gonna... Rach, baby, I'm gonna... FUCK!" Quinn couldn't get the sentence out in time, and her load came spilling out of her dick in thick ropes, that landed in Rachel's hand and on her clothes, as well as on Quinn's breeches. The blonde let her head loll backwards, her good arm covering the top half of her face.

She felt movement beside her, and peeked an eye out, seeing Rachel snuggling into her. She dropped her hand and wrapped it around the duchess, bringing her closer to her body. Quinn kissed the silky chocolate locks of the girl nestled into her side. "Why did you do that, Rach?" Quinn frowned lightly, confusion showing itself on her face.

Rachel was taken aback, "Did you not enjoy yourself?" She frowned even deeper when the blonde started laughing. "Oh, baby, it's not that I didn't enjoy myself. I did, I felt really good. But I was wondering if this was because you wanted to do it or... was there another reason?" Rachel flushed faintly at the question, and mumbled in a small voice, "I wanted to; I was planning on doing it at another time, but seeing you get hurt like that... I don't know what came over me. I guess I just thought that, with you fighting so much, that I was gonna lose you one day. So I had to do something before I lost you." she was still not looking at Quinn, who was gazing at her with love so deep, it could be an ocean and it still would overflow.

"Baby, remember this: I will always find a way to come back to you. It doesn't matter what I have to do, I'll do it in a heartbeat if it means I can see your gorgeous face again. To the ends of the world and to the depths..." Rachel cut her off, "...depths of hell and back, if I'm by your side. I know." She smiled at Quinn, who smiled back. They snuggled together and fell into a blissful sleep.

* * *

><p><em>Jesse<em>

He sat at his desk, his face an unbreakable mask of nothing. Any normal person would think that he was deeply lost in thought; but anyone that knew him would see behind the mask at the infuriated eyes that threatened to set any one person aflame at the slightest mishap.

_Okay, let's see. She came to my defense when I asked her for her help, so she must trust me on some level. She fought against the assassins pursuing me (hired by me, but I won't tell her that). It's highly possible that the one she swept is by now dead, due to a cracked skull and a possible slit on his throat. _He leant farther back on his chair, putting his feet up on the desk. He rubbed at his temples; he could feel the throbbing that signified the beginning of a headache.

_The one with the broken knee is dead, and the third assassin almost went against my orders; I don't like people going against me. I'll have Damien get rid of him later tonight. The Muskequeer is hurt, and Rachel, like the faithful little bitch she is, went right to her side. The little whore!_

_I need to do something so that Rachel will turn back to me. But that little French slut is just a tad too perfect! And Rachel already knows how bad I can get, and that my good side (if I had one) would be pretty much nonexistent. Right now, the odds favor that fucking Musketeer, but I need to find a way to tip the scales in my favor... But how? What can I do to make Rachel believe that I have 'changed'?_

His headache was now at full throttle, and he raked his fingertips through his hair, massaging his scalp. He breathed out and shut his eyes, trying to let his pounding brain slow down. His eyes snapped open and a slow, sinister smile made its way onto his face. He had the _perfect_ plan, and from the way things had been going lately, it was the logical step to take. He put his arms behind his head, and leant back, the smile never leaving his face.

_Oh, Fabray, you do not know, nor can you imagine, what is coming to you. My revenge will be so good; I'll get my wife back, while getting rid of the cocky slut. _He laughed out loud at his witty description of the blonde. _Cocky! Ha, I crack myself up._

* * *

><p><em>En route to France<em>

Amber awoke on the cot that she shared with Sam. The sailors' living quarters were below deck and the captain was nice enough to give them the spare cot, that would've been for one of the deck officers (he had, un/fortunately, a family emergency that kept him in England). She could feel the gentle sway of the ship coursing through the waves. She laid on her back as her kind took her to thoughts of Sam. The soldier was admittedly good-looking, he was polite, honest, gentle, and Amber could easily say that she liked him, might even be falling in love with him. And how could she not? Her whole life, she had been raised without any real contact with people her age.

Her mother would sometimes take her along to the nearest town to buy food and other goods. They didn't spend enough time in town for her to be able to make new friends, so she knew almost nothing as to what it was like to feel something for someone else. But the way her heart flipped and somersaulted whenever she thought about him or whenever she was with him gave her a nice clue as to how love would feel like.

She bit her lip and smiled at the thought of spending the rest of her mortal life with him, marrying him and bearing his children. Her heart raced at the idea, and she giggled like a little girl, grabbing the pillow they were given and hugging it tightly to her chest, burying her nose in it once she caught the blond man's scent on the feathered-filled object.

Above deck, Sam leant over the railing, thinking the exact same thing about his traveling companion. Besides Rachel and Quinn, Santana and Brittany, Amber was easily the most beautiful girl he had ever laid eyes on. The former four were each in a serious relationship; Quinn with Rachel, and Santana and Brittany. And as far as he knew, Amber had no previous beaus and was currently single, so why shouldn't he try his luck at gaining and keeping her heart?

He smiled at the prospect, his eyes looking at the horizon. The sun was beginning to ascend, so he concluded it was sometime between four and six in the morning. He stood straighter, his back cracking at the sudden change in posture. Sam brought his hand to the inside pocket of his robe, where the decoy letter lay. Amber and he had traded the letters, since most robbers would assume the soldier had the real one. So, logically, Sam had the decoy in order to give Amber try to escape to the Cardinal's Palace with the real one. But his fingers also found the second letter that Santana had given him to get to M. De Tréville. _Look for blue-coated Musketeers. They shall relay the message. _Those were the Spaniard's instructions.

He felt hands at his shoulders, rubbing away at the tense muscles. He turned as Amber wrapped her arms around his waist. The blond was fairly surprised at the action but wrapped his arms around her nonetheless, returning the hug. Both of them smiled covertly, the same thought running through their minds: _Maybe I do have a chance at this love._ And France would probably prove to be their opportunity at exploring their feelings without having to worry about people interrupting them.

* * *

><p><em>A week later, Carlisle Castle<em>

_Where could they be? It's been a week, and they still haven't returned. I know I'm probably being paranoid since it would take 4 days to get to Paris, and therefore 4 days back... Logically, and without any sort of setback, they should be back anytime tomorrow._

"Baby, you're thinking way too loud. I'm pretty sure Santana and Brittany can hear you, crystal clear, and they're probably in their bedroom, making really loud, really passionate love, and they can hear you over all that noise." Quinn teased her girlfriend, who stopped her pacing and slammed herself down on the bed, making the blonde wince when she jostled her recovering shoulder.

"I know but I can't help it. They've been gone for a week, and unless something happened to them, they should be in their way back already." Rachel placed her head on Quinn's good shoulder, and the blonde wrapped a comforting arm around the tiny shoulders of the brunette. An idea occurred to the Musketeer, who smirked before shaking her head, chuckling. Rachel looked at her beloved, thinking the blonde had lost her mind. "What are you laughing at, love?"

Quinn smiled at the term of endearment and kissed Rachel on the forehead. "I'm just thinking that _maybe_ there is a setback, but not the kind that you're thinking about, mon amour." Quinn's secret smile tickled at Rachel's curiosity. She blurted out her question, "What are you talking about, ma chère?" It was something they did, exchanging terms of endearment. They both found it adorable, even if they had never commented on it.

"France, and especially Paris, is well known for being a very romantic setting, attracting lovers from around the globe to spend _quality time _with each other. I think that our dearest Sammy boy has found his other half in Amber, just as Santana found hers in Brittany and I found mine in you, my lovely. They might be _getting to know_ each other, if you catch my drift?" She winked a hazel orb, and Rachel flushed prettily when she caught on to what her Musketeer meant.

"Oh. Then, by all means, let them stay there if they must. They should spend their time with each other, because God knows that as soon as they come back, Jesse wants the whole army to be ready to attack France. Speaking of, how are you gonna get yourself out of that?" The duchess looked at the Musketeer, who furrowed her brow, deeply in thought.

The blonde shook her head, shaggy locks fluttering about her head. Rachel giggled cutely and ran her fingers through the soft, shaggy blonde locks. Quinn did it again, wanting to make Rachel laugh again. Her lover's tinkling laugh filled the room, and Quinn smiled at the cuteness of her girlfriend. "How did I get so damn lucky? I have great friends, I became what I've dreamt of being, and now I've got you, who loves me for being just that, me. I don't know want I did for God to reward me with an angel, but whatever it may have been, I'm eternally grateful to him," the blonde's words made Rachel's heart swell with love and adoration for the Musketeer.

Rachel hooked her hands around Quinn's neck and brought her down, their lips meeting in the middle. The kiss was slow, there being no need to deepen it. Their lips slid together, over and over again, making them both moan. Their desire for each other was overflowing, filling each nook and cranny of their bodies. Quinn broke the kiss before their lust could take over them completely.

They both sighed, happy to be in each other's arms. They were getting lost in each other's eyes, something not new to the love struck couple, but a sound at their window made them snap their head in that direction. There it went again; it was like something was hitting the window. Quinn disentangled herself from Rachel and went to the window to see what it was. As she looked out, her eyes caught a pebble being thrown from below and hitting the window.

Quinn quietly opened the window, not realizing that the pebbles now had nothing to strike. As the small rock came flying up, she reached out her hand and caught it. Not bothering to see who was down below, she threw the stone down. 'God fucking damn, ow! Next time you want my help, Fabray, I'll remind you of this little happening!' A voice reprimanded her. The blonde's face twisted in confusion and she looked down from the balcony.

Santana was holding her head, soothing the sting from the stone; Brittany and Puck stood with her, laughing mutely at the grumpy Spaniard. "How the hell do you plan on coming all the way up here, if you're_ outside_ and the room is a couple hundred feet from the ground?" Quinn stage whispered, knowing Santana would hear her. "We were planning to fly, Sherlock. What do you think? We have a grappling hook!" Santana's sarcasm still made Quinn chuckle.

"Yeah, so stand back. I don't wanna hit you with it and have Rachel cut my balls off with a spoon!" Santana and Brittany looked at Puck, who looked back, totally serious. "What? She can and she will if I do anything to her precious Quinn. I remember that she looked like she wanted to rip my entrails out with her bare hands that one time I busted Quinn lip and cracked a rib while sparring." Santana and Brittany were busting a gut, laughing at the soldier's antics. Up in the room, Quinn and Rachel were also laughing, albeit quietly.

The sound of the hook hitting the stone floor of the balcony had Rachel running to the door and locking it, not wanting Jesse or anyone else to interrupt them by barging in. Santana was the first one to drop in and waited on the balcony for Brittany. The two girls entered the room hand in hand and sat at the desk, Santana directly on the desk and Brittany on her lap.

Puck walked in seconds later, placing the hook besides the window opening, closing the blinds and leaning against the wall. "Okay, so... The Ball of Janus is in a week's time; security will be tight and all over the place. Jesse will want to make sure that no one enters or leaves Carlisle Castle without him knowing about it. He will have guards placed at the doors, on the battlements, strategically spread throughout the grounds... Carlisle Castle will turn into a Fortress. Not even God would make it in and out undetected." He started pacing the floor, all for girls following him with their eyes.

He stopped and looked at Rachel. "He will make sure that all of us are at our posts, Quinn included. He has threatened us with lashes, solitary confinement for the remaining of the winter months, and death by hanging. I believe he's fucking nuts for ordering death at leaving our posts; lashes sound like a really good punishment but why death? It's just not logical." At hearing this, Quinn figured out the reason behind the death threat.

"He meant that for me. He knew that if he didn't tell me, you would do it, at some point or another." She was on her feet, and pacing towards the bathroom door and back to the bed. It looked comical given the fact that her arm was still on a sling. It threw off the military stance she usually had. She kept going, a thought forming in her head, "But... but, what if... we found someone to play decoy for me? That way it'll look like I'm at my post, while in actually inside, waltzing right in front of Lord St. Fucktard and his tiny dick." The room was quiet for a couple of seconds, and then Puck burst out laughing, Santana and Brittany joining in, while Rachel and Quinn enjoyed the laughing show.

"He's got a tiny dick? Rach, why didn't you tell me that?" Puck was guffawing, holding his stomach as if it threatened to burst if he kept going like he was. Santana and Brittany were also laughing, but they were trying to hide their laughter with each other's help. "How small is he?" Santana got out between Puck's bouts of raucous laughter. Rachel told them what she had told Quinn, and the trio took off again.

When the laughter subsided, Quinn took notice of the dark sky outside. "Hey, guys, it got pretty late. You should be getting to your beds. We'll talk about this in the morning." The silly trio nodded and walked towards the door. Santana and Brittany snuck out to their chamber, and, as he was nearing the door, Puck turned and looked at Quinn, "We'll leave this grappling hook here, in case you need it. We have several spares, and they're not hard to make on your own. So, keep this one on hand, you don't know if you might need it." Quinn nodded, and he looked out to the hallway before walking out.

The couple got into bed, and snuggled. Rachel placed her head on the chest of her Musketeer, feeling the strong tattoo under her ear. How strong did Quinn's heart palpitate, for her. Quinn's heart, as the blonde had said, was Rachel's to keep. The duchess turned her head, pulled down the collar of the white shirt the blonde was wearing, and placed a loving kiss over her lover's heart.

Then she moved up to kiss Quinn. They moaned at the contact, Quinn placing a hand on Rachel's cheek. The kiss was slow, tender, and oh, so short. They pulled away and laid back down, getting comfortable. Moments silently passed and they both got taken by blissful sleep.

* * *

><p><em>The next morning;<em>

_Paris, France; Amber and Sam_

Getting to the Cardinal's Palace was a feat easier said than done. They had run into no trouble so far into France but they still had to be careful. They took the out-of-the-way roads that weren't well-known, and although it took somewhat longer to get there that made it. They paid for a room in a hotel, and set out for the Cardinal's Palace. Once there, the Cardinal's page had them sit in the Cardinal's office and wait for His Eminence.

Cardinal Richelieu walked in, his eyebrows rose at seeing the soldier with an English insignia of the House of Carlisle. "How may I help you, monsieur, mademoiselle?" He was very polite, and he had an air of benevolence and friendliness about him. He moved to sit behind his desk, looking at them expectantly.

Amber took out the letter from Rachel, and explained the reason behind their visit, handing it to him. "Monsieur, the Cardinal, we've come here from Carlisle, England. We bring you no harm; that letter is from our Lady, Miss Rachel Berry. She's married to Lord Jesse St. James, but for reasons only described in the letter, she's asking for a legal separation under the Church."

The Cardinal read carefully over the letter, his brow furrowing and his eyes narrowing. He took out a piece of paper, a pen and ink. He got to the task of writing a reply to Rachel's missive, dating it and signing it at the end. After he was done, he gently blew on the ink to dry it and folded the letter up, sealing it with the Cardinal's signature ring.

He handed it back to Amber, who bowed and took his hand in hers, kissing it. Sam, being a soldier, stood ramrod straight and letting out a respectful 'Monsieur', he also bowed and kissed his hand. The pair left the Palace, and made their way to their hotel. Before arriving, Sam parted ways with Amber, quoting a second affair that he had been entrusted to by Santana. Amber nodded and continued walking to the hotel, while Sam made his way to the Musketeer HQ. He had to get the letter to M. de Tréville, and he had to do it fast. Their plan, and Rachel's and Quinn's lives, depended on it.

* * *

><p><em>Jesse<em>

Waking up had never felt so good to Jesse. He had the best idea in the whole universe; it was something so simple, it was complex to the point of being illogically obvious. _It was such a brilliant idea, it's a mystery to me how I didn't see it before. _He stretched his arms over his head, crossing them behind his head. He smiled a Cheshire smile, and he shook his head, trying to understand how he got this lucky.

He dressed and he walked down the stairs to his office. He stopped at the main staircase, and instead of going down to his study, he walked across and went to the South wing of the living quarters. He ran up the stairs, skipping every second step. He got to Rachel's chamber door, and was about to knock when he heard noises coming from it.

He pressed his ear to the door, thinking that maybe he had heard wrong. He held his breath and waited. He snarled quietly when he heard them again, quiet moans and groans floated through the chamber and into his ears. He slammed the palm of his hand on the stone wall that encased the door. He stepped away from the door and walked to his office, fuming internally.

Stepping into his office, the wavy haired Lord of Carlisle Castle was taken aback at the brown haired figure looking at the books lining the shelves around his office. More of a surprise was the blonde figure, primly sat at one of the chairs across from his. Alec turned from his perusing and smirked maliciously at him, his eyes shifting between the figure on the chair and Jesse himself.

Jesse cleared his throat, garnering the attention of the sitting figure. When they stood and turned, Jesse smiled toothily as if the figure of Mme. Fabray graced his Castle with her presence. He walked to her and, holding her hand in his, he bent down to brush his lips on her knuckles. "My dear Madame, we are honored to be having you in our humble abode. I trust that your journey here was pleasant?" Mme. Fabray smiled indulgently at him. "And I also trust that you'll be staying for the Ball of Janus at the end of the month? Or are you expected back in France by then?" He smiled boyishly at her, and she laughed.

"My dear Lord St. James, do expect me to stay for the Ball. Now, to business. I hope that my... _little angel _has been good company?" The contempt with which she said 'little angel' made Jesse smirk and Alec laugh quietly at his corner, where he seemed to be entertained with his perusal of the leather-bound titles. Jesse unconsciously trailed a hand to his jaw, where the faint shadow of a bruise could be seen when under careful scrutiny.

"Yeah, she's been a _riot. _I think my wife would agree," he spat with a venomous smile, as Mme. Fabray laughed at his obvious distaste for the Musketeer. Then the second part of the statement caught up to her. "Your wife? Don't tell me that she's rolling around with my freak of a daughter?" She scoffed as Jesse nodded. "What a slut of a wife you have there, St. James. I would think you'd have... _better _tastes in women." She let out, as she flirtatiously ran her fingers over his chest. Alec decided to speak up at that moment, "Just so you know, I'm willing to share. But you have to be able to return the favor... if you know what I mean." The trio smirked and got down to... _business._

* * *

><p><em>Quinn and Rachel<em>

_"My bounty is as boundless as the sea; My love as deep. The more I give to thee, The more I have, for both are infinite," _With those lines being whispered into the slumbering duchess' ear, the blonde kissed her girlfriend's cheek. The sleepy girl smiled as her eyes fluttered open, warm chocolate eyes blearily looking at her. Grinning shyly, Rachel whispered, "Good morning, mon amour," Quinn smiled back, and kissed her on the lips. "Morning, baby,"

They stayed silent several seconds more, until the Musketeer leant in and captured Rachel's plump lips between her own, nibbling, nipping and sucking on them. Rachel moaned at the blonde's ministrations, opening her mouth when Quinn's questing tongue flicked lightly over it. Their tongues tangled together, twisting and teasing each other. Their moans picked up in volume, and they parted, albeit reluctantly, for air.

Quinn didn't stop there; she moved to place hot, wet kisses on a tan, soft cheek, then down to a jaw, where she nibbled at the skin. Rachel's hands moved to tangle in Quinn's hair, pulling her closer and letting Quinn know that it was okay to continue. Quinn lowered her mouth to the pliant, smooth skin of the duchess' neck, biting down on the fluttering pulse point, making Rachel moan loudly and tug roughly on her hair. "Oh, yeah, baby. I like it rough," she husked out at the sweet-scented neck.

She sucked on the spot, nipping it and soothing it with her tongue. Rachel brought her back up, and devoured her lips hungrily, slanting her mouth over Quinn's kiss-swollen lips, quickly claiming and taking possession of it. They pulled away when they heard a muffled thump, and Quinn stood from the bed, walking towards the door.

She opened it slowly, and looked out to each side. Finding no one, she came back in. The blonde sat down next to her lover, enjoying their cuddle time until Anna knocked on the door, with the warm water for their bath. They both undressed slowly, and walked to the bathroom. They hadn't done anything since Rachel's handjob, and they were more than willing to wait for the time to be right. They were in love; they had no reason to rush into intimacy.

* * *

><p><strong>OH SHIT! <strong>**Who just shat bricks? :D**

**Big chapter. Just a few Q's I want you to answer.**

**1- Should Jesse die or disappear and how?**

**2- How do you guys feel about a chapter just filled with Faberry smuty and sex?**

**3- When and how should Quinn find out that her mother is in the Castle and how should she react? How should Rachel find out?**

**4- Should Sam and Amber run into M. Fabray? What should happen?**

**5- What do you think Santana's letter to M. de Tréville was about?**

**Answer if you want to answer. And REVIEWS make my world go round... That means if you read this, thou shalt review it. :)**


	13. Plans made, things unseen

**WHOA! Sorry for the long wait between chapters, peeps. A lot has been going on as of late: I'm going through my college registration, I recently started dating a wonderful, beautiful girl, and school has been beating me up... add a massive writer's block to that, and it's not a good combo.**

**This is kind of a filler, but a lot of things are going down. The Ball is almost here, and yes, that means the Faberry sex filled chapter is just around the corner...**

**Without further ado, next chapter's up. Enjoy :)**

* * *

><p><em>Paris, France - Amber and Sam<em>

Locating the Musketeer Headquarters was easy on Sam; he had only to follow some blue-coats he had spotted out of the corner of his eye. He followed them to the HQ, but was stopped by a couple of them that had seen his English insignia. "What do you want here? You're heavily outnumbered; I don't think you can make it in and out alive," a rapier placed against his neck, Sam regarded the man holding the blade with a cool face.

"I come from Carlisle Castle, looking for M. de Tréville with a letter from Santana Lopez." Sam knew he was doing no wrong and what better way to get inside for a private audience with M. de Tréville than with Santana's letter as a ticket. The Musketeer narrowed his eyes at Sam, "Lopez, you say?" He slammed his sword in its scabbard and grabbed Sam by the elbow, dragging into the building.

Sam looked around at the other Musketeers who stared at him, hands on their blades, waiting for an ambuscade. The Musketeer led him to the door of M. de Tréville's office, and knocked on it firmly. Sam waited with baited breath, and the door opened. Sam thought M. de Tréville looked to be a man that could put him in his place if he stepped out of line. "What is going on, Antoine? Who is this gentleman?" The Musketeer, Antoine, stood straight, and his eyes locked onto something in front of him, just past the shoulder of M. de Tréville.

"Sir, this gentleman says he has a letter from Mlle. Santana. He comes from Carlisle Castle in England." He stated to his captain. There was a rattle from inside the office, and another man came from behind M. de Tréville. "Santana? You have a letter from her, you have seen her? Is she alive?" The frantic man was holding onto Sam's clothing with a vice grip, his hazel eyes glazed and desperate. M. de Tréville placed a comforting hand on the man's shoulder. "I'm sure Santana is fine, Russell. Young man, please come in. We have a lot to discuss." Both men went back into the office, with Sam in tow.

M. de Tréville sat behind his desk, Russell stood across from him and Sam stood scarce steps away from the door, just in case he needed to make a quick exit. M. de Tréville cleared his throat, and Sam snapped his attention to him. "What's your name, monsieur? And what's your business in France?" His polite tone gave nothing away, curiosity tainting it through and through. Sam responded honestly, his tone showing his intentions were noble.

"I am Sam Evans. I come from England, bearing a letter from Santana Lopez to M. de Tréville," he presented the letter to the captain. The black haired man took it, and read it slowly, a small smile etching itself on his face. Russell's voice spoke, his tone anguished, "If you know Santana, do you know my other daughter? Quinn's her name. She's tall, blonde, hazel eyes like mine, light-skinned. Have you seen anyone that matches the description?" Sam gasped, his jaw hitting the floor, as Russell awaited his response.

Sam snapped out of his astonishment. "Yes, sir. Quinn is also at Carlisle Castle, she's been there for a couple of months. She's completely fine, as is Santana. If you don't mind my asking, sir, but what did Santana want?" Sam inquired, switching his glance from a visibly relieved Russell to M. de Tréville. The captain looked up, his eyes boring a hole through Sam's head, "You, M. Evans, are to help us infiltrate Carlisle Castle on the eve of the Janus Ball that will be held there a week from now." Sam could only look at the captain with wide eyes.

* * *

><p><em>Carlisle Castle, England - Quinn and Rachel<em>

After their bath, both girls agreed to practice their dancing. Quinn was a fair dancer, having had a handful of balls that her family attended. She had never led the dance, though, since she was always paired up with a boy. But in these circumstances, she needed to learn how to lead, since she was gonna be passing for a man. Rachel was a fluid dancer; her body was lithe, toned and the duchess owned an innate grace that possessed her body whenever she danced.

The couple got into position; Rachel's left hand on Quinn's shoulder, Quinn's right hand on Rachel's waist, and their free hands clasped together. Rachel started humming the melody that was their waltz and they started to move together around the room. Quinn was a fast learner, and she got the hang of the dance in a couple of minutes.

They did one last trial run, and Quinn surpassed every expectation Rachel had. The blonde dipped the tiny duchess, spinning her away and towards her own body. As she did the last in-twirl, Rachel's momentum had her crashing against the lithely muscular frame of the blonde, catching herself with a hand on the taller girl's collarbone, right above her right breast. The blonde's hands had anchored themselves on the brunette's hips, holding safely and firmly onto her lover.

Rachel was breathing raggedly, thinking, _Oh, God, with the way she moves, I'm going to be on top of her in the blink of an eye. _She bit her bottom lip, keeping a leash on the moan that threatened to come out. Quinn sensed her duchess' inner struggle, as she herself was having those thoughts, and placed a loving kiss on the crown of chocolate locks. They stopped their dancing, bodies still close together, their hearts beating in unison.

The Musketeer locked eyes with the duchess, and they both leant in as time slowed to a standstill. Their lips brushed, and, no matter the fact that they had kissed for about a million times, the inner explosion each girl felt was stronger than the last. Quinn whimpered when Rachel's teeth caught her bottom lip, tugging on it and sucking it into her mouth. The brunette let go of the captive lower lip as her tongue pushed past Quinn's parted lips and into the blonde's mouth.

A moan escaped their mouths, neither girl knowing whose it was nor caring about it. Their mouths kept fiercely meeting, slipping, sliding; sensuous strokes of their tongues adding to the fire burning within them. As Quinn's hand went to snake under Rachel's skirts, a knock at the door had them flying apart, chests heaving with erratic breaths, kiss-swollen lips parted and cheeks flushed. Quinn strode to the door and flung it open, the figures of Santana, Brittany, and Puck filled the doorway and the trio entered the chamber, Puck shutting the door behind him. Santana waited until Puck was seated on the floor at the foot of the bed before speaking.

"Listen up! By around this time, if everything has gone as predicted, Sam and Amber should be in France, and M. de Tréville should be in the loop as to what we're planning. This is only accounting for the strategized steps in our plan; anything else outside of our control could tip the scales either way, and if that happens we'll need to work around it."

Two blonde heads nodded, understanding that the unforeseeable circumstances that could befall their plan would be crucial to their success or downfall, while Puck and Rachel trusted the analyzing and calculating side of the Spaniard. The tall brunette looked at her comrades; her sister and her girlfriend both knew that anything they did could be counterproductive to the point of turning the tables against them.

Santana swallowed thickly, the knot in her throat tightening. "The predicted date for the ambuscade will be the night of the Ball, approximately a week from tonight. We've intended to run Jesse out of the Castle; without the use of his own army, he's powerless to help the English army attack France." She looked at Puck, who was stoically looking back at her. "Puck, I understand that this is gonna put you in a compromising position..."

"But this is what I wanna do; I want to help you guys." The Englishman cut in, his eyes burning with determination. "I don't think of this as me betraying my mother country; this is me helping out my family. At the end of the day, my family will always be by my side, while my country may leave me behind to pursue its own beliefs. That's my definition of betrayal: discarding people just for believing in something different." Puck was now standing, his back ramrod straight, his chest puffed out and his jaw clenched; he was the image of pure, unadulterated indomitability.

At the end of his inspiring rant, Quinn stood from her place on the bed, beside Rachel, and went to stand in front of Puck. She reached her arm out and Puck grasped her forearm, Quinn's hand grasping his own, in a sign of trust and loyalty. Santana and Brittany did the same thing, and Rachel watched them, a small smile playing at her lips.

A loud knock interrupted the bonding moment. "Rachel, can we talk? It's important, it's about the Ball." Jesse's voice rang out, muffled by the door and sounding out of breath. Puck, Santana and Brittany ran quietly and swiftly into the bathroom, leaving the door ajar. Quinn made a shushing motion with a finger to her lips and whispered into the brunette's ear, "If he asks where I am, I'm out training with Puck." The duchess nodded as Quinn kissed her forehead and went to hide under the bed, when a second, more forceful knock filled the quiet chamber.

Rachel reluctantly walked toward the door and opened it, her brow furrowing when she saw Jesse's messy appearance. His hair, usually combed and groomed to perfect waves, was sticking out in all directions; his clothes were rumpled and dirty; she could see the dust motes littering his shoes and his breathing was erratic and irregular. "What do you want, Jesse?" He brushed past her, entering her room and sitting down on the bed. "Please, come in. Make yourself at home," she didn't try to hide the contempt in her voice.

Jesse seemed unimpressed, and got to talking, "Okay, Rach. The Ball is in a mere six days and we haven't gotten around to practicing the opening dance. So I thought that we could do that with the time that your Muskequeer doesn't hog." He announced, his manner airy, and Rachel scoffed at his perceived prepotence. She smiled at him, the smile tight lipped and strained. She opened her mouth to speak, but Jesse was having none of it. "Where is your one hit wonder, anyhow? Shouldn't she be here, sucking up to you and trying to get you into bed with her?" His wolfish grin was getting on her nerves, and all she wanted to do was slap it off.

"She's training with Puck, which I find oh, so sexy. She gets all sweaty and hot, I just wanna lick her whole body dry. And she's not a 'one hit wonder', as you called her. She can go all night long, giving me multiple orgasms. Plus, she's so big and fills me up so good. She even tastes amazing, and if I had it my way, all I would be eating for breakfast is her big, thick cock." She watched in amusement as his jaw and fists clenched in anger, and his ire-filled eyes bore into hers.

"Really? I think I saw her fooling around with one of the nursemaids, Alexa. They seemed to be having a lot of fun together." He smirked at her, but she didn't fall for it. "When was that, if I may ask of you to tell me?" His smirk widened, and he spoke with barely-concealed mirth lacing his words, "I've seen them together a couple of times. The most recent one was two nights ago, in your precious library, at the fall of dusk. Alexa seemed to be having the time of her life, bouncing up and down on your freak's cock. It seemed wrong to interrupt them, so I let them be. I didn't want to tell you, hoping the blonde bitch would have the balls to tell you herself, metaphorically and literally speaking, of course." He stopped and gauged her reaction.

Rachel's arms were crossed in front of her chest, her eyebrows high on her forehead... and a small smile on her face. He faltered and subconsciously leaned back a bit, "Well, that couldn't have been. Quinn was here with me, two nights ago at the fall of dusk and at the crack of dawn the next day. And the two of us slowly loved one another. So you must be mistaken, Jesse. If that's all, I would like it if you would walk yourself out." She turned to the door to open it, but Jesse turned her around and pushed her against it.

"Well, we could make use of the time that she's not here and maybe you can give me a piece of that ass. You've been giving it out to your Musketeer, and you've known her only for a couple of months. You're married to me and as your husband, I have a right to take what is, by law, mine," he let out into her ear. Her eyes widened and her instincts kicked in, her knee coming up and hitting him strongly and squarely in the groin.

He let out a pained yelp, cupped his busted balls gingerly and fell to the floor in a trembling heap. "Bitch! You've been whoring yourself around to everyone that looks at you with something akin to respect and adoration, and I can't get any. I'm your husband, you owe yourself to me." He yelled in ire. She opened the door and struggled to push him out of it. Finally managing it, she closed it behind her and stopped the four soldiers from going after him. She let out a mumbled 'he's not worth it' that was muffled into Quinn's chest, as the blonde had gathered the duchess in her arms as soon as she had been within arm distance.

While the two lovers embraced, Puck, Santana and Brittany came out of the bathroom. They all wore mischievous smirks and were looking at the pair amusedly. Puck's deep voice slowly broke the silence, "So... were you planning on telling us that you've been... frolicking? Or did you think that telling us that would break some kind of privacy code that you have with one another? Because I never..."

"We haven't done it, yet." Quinn's voice was quiet enough that it could have passed for a hallucination, but the trio had heard her loud and clear in the suddenly serious silence that surrounded the five of them. Puck was the first to recover from this revelation, "So Rachel lied to Jesse... to prove that you were better than him in more than just the romantic side of the relationship. She wanted to rub in his face that you were also a better lover than he ever was..."

Rachel was the one to get everything straight in front of everyone. "Jesse and I never slept together. He gave me oral once, and that was it. The rare times that he was actually with me, he got his rocks off by dominating me, pushing me down on my knees and waving his disgusting two-incher in my face, and that only happened once. He forced me to suck him off and when that didn't get him over, he went off to find some slut to fuck." As the story wore on, Rachel's mumbling periodically turned into a full-blown yell.

When she was done, the tiny duchess took deep breaths as Quinn gathered her once again in her arms, the brunette's own limbs going around the Musketeer's svelte waist. Quinn softly stroked the duchess' silky chocolate locks, placing a warm kiss on the brunette's forehead. Rachel burrowed her head under Quinn's chin, breathing in her scent. With her eyes, the blonde ordered the other three to leave and give the two of them some space.

Brittany acquiesced immediately and Santana followed her girlfriend out of the chamber. Puck, however, looked straight at Quinn and arched an eyebrow. '_Are you two gonna be okay?_' Quinn nodded slightly as Rachel wiggled even closer to her blonde lover. Puck left, quietly shutting the door behind him. The Mohawked Admiral failed to notice a shadowy figure that had been watching the door that whole time.

* * *

><p><em>January 29 - 2 days to the Janus Ball; Sam and Amber.<em>

Getting 700 French Musketeers (give or take a dozen or two) into the territory of England was easier said than done. They had to don informal attire, like the commoners would wear, but they still had their rapiers safely stocked inside a big crate that supposedly held guns for the English army.

M. Fabray, wanting to know what had been the fate of his youngest daughter, had persuaded M. de Tréville and Sam to let him tag along. He now stood, facing the shores of France as they disappeared on the horizon, a sad but determined look on his face. M. de Tréville approached his fellow Frenchman and ran through the plan with him, the same one that Santana had devised and sent to them in the letter she had Sam deliver.

"Russ, I understand that this is your daughter we're talking about, but we can't run into the fire without knowing what perils await us once there. I'm not saying," he cut the blond man off, noticing the need to say something was written in his eyes, "that I'm sending you back to France. I am saying that we'll need your strategizing mind to get us in and out of that Castle safe and sound. I remember in the olden days, you planned our battles and I led them to fruition. We are both here, both still in the game, but our skills are a little rusty. You give me the way to do this and I'll get back your little girl. But I need you cool and calm, you can't just let your emotions get in the way." Russell nodded at his friend and they set off to start the planning.

* * *

><p><em>January 29 - Carlisle Castle<em>

_Jesse_

He sat at his desk, his face covered in shadows. Rage twisted his features into a maliciously irate mask, his hollow eyes spitting fire and his jaw clenching with the force of his explosive anger. _'How could she do that to me? She married me, then claims to love the blonde French slut with a dick and now she's going and fucking around with Puckerman? At least I'm not the only one getting fucked over; that Muskefreak will also get an unwelcomed kick to the balls. But just to get some sweet revenge, I shall be the one telling that freak of nature that her little 'girlfriend' is sheathing another cock with her pussy.' _ By the end of his internal tirade, Jesse's countenance had morphed from a raging maelstrom into a vengeful scowl.

_Now that that's settled, let's go see what Mme. Fabray is up to... _His chair legs scratched the wooden floor as he stood up, the hollow racketing not bothering the lust filled young man. He strode out of his office, smirk firmly glued in place, his pace cocky and arrogant.

* * *

><p><em>Rachel<em>

As she sat in the library, confusion marring her beautiful countenance and making her furrow her brow, the petite duchess thought about the events that had come to pass within the past week. Her plan of giving herself to Quinn after the Janus Ball was still afoot, the question was could she restrain herself?

If she managed to hold her desire for Quinn long enough, they would have their first time be on the day where they could leave the ballroom mid-dance, completely disappear, and no one would say a thing for nobody would know who they were.

_Now all I have to do is keep a calm, cool head around Quinn and everything will be splendid and fine... if only she stopped being so fucking sexy and gorgeous and adorable, this would be easier to do than it is in actuality._

She sighed in frustration and put her head on her hands, the cool skin of her palms a welcomed relief to the irate heat building on her forehead. She massaged her temples with her fingers, feeling a bad headache coming. She groaned as the pain in her head intensified, and resolved to leave her head alone. She bolted up, head suddenly dizzy from the rushing blood pounding inside her brain, and she strode out of the library. As she passed a room, she heard loud moans and groans coming from within.

With the door ajar, she silently took a quick peek, her eyes widening at what they registered. Jesse was naked on the stone floor, on his back, while an equally naked blonde bouncing and grinding on top of him. Rachel could barely make out the words spilling from Jesse's partially open mouth. "Oh, yeah, Quinn, baby. Yes, God, Quinn I'm gonna cum. And I want you to take it like the little whore you are. I'm gonna fill you up with my cum. Ohh, here it comes, oh, God! QUINN!"

Rachel's throat constricted as she felt the bile rising up, smothering her taste buds with the bitter flavor of betrayal. The duchess walked away, not noticing that inside the room, Mme. Fabray laughed at Jesse's obvious Freudian slip. "Who knew that you were infatuated with my son-daughter, St. James? This is too good!" She chuckled as Jesse, still on the floor, glared daggers up at her as a deep flush made its way up his neck and face. "I am most definitely not infatuated with the freak you call your child, Judy!" The man bellowed, slapping his open palms on the stone floor for emphasis.

She laughed again, imitating him during his orgasm, "Oh, yeah, Quinn! You're my good little cockslut aren't you? God, Quinn, yeah, take my big cock!" she cackled at his embarrassed position, curled into himself and covering his tomato-like face. He had never been more humiliated, and by the mother of his wife's lover, no less. _This is going just great... _

He rose from the floor, head down and shoulders sagging, and started to slowly dress himself. He wasn't gonna stay in that room with that woman if he was gonna have his pride prodded adds injured. _It's not my fault that freak is beautiful. I would totally make her mine if she didn't have the same equipment I do... but damn, is she gorgeous. With that pretty little mouth, I beg she gives great head. And that ass, I could spend years pounding into that perfectly sculpted ass... _Jesse was, once again, brought out of his head by Judy's raucous laughter. _She's really starting to annoy me..._

* * *

><p><em>Back with Rachel<em>

_How could she do this, and with him of all people? I thought she loved me, I thought she was gonna give herself to me. But I guess I thought wrong. _In her distressed mental state, Rachel couldn't make the connection between a) Quinn was obviously in love with her and b) Quinn had a penis. How on Earth could Jesse penetrate Quinn if they both had the same appendage?

As the tiny duchess reached the sparring arena, the sunlight blinding her momentarily and the heat caressing her with soft touches, she saw flashes of blonde and brown, moving at baffling speed. Her eyes adjusted to the brighter light of the crisp January morning, she could see Santana and Brittany, both bare-handed, going back and forth in a well-matched sparring session. Her chocolate orbs followed quick strikes and crushing kicks, as the attacker tried to land a hit against the defender, who avoided or blocked the attacks, never countering.

She saw Santana's arm reach out to Brittany's neck, when the blonde ducked to the left and blocked with her right arm, grabbing the Spaniard's wrist and pulling it down. With her arm extended, Santana knew what her girlfriend had planned, but with her body twisted the way it was, she had no chances of getting out of Brittany's grip without hurting the tall blonde. So she let Brittany lock the joints of her arm in place, and when she felt the stinging strain on her tendons, she tapped Brittany's back lightly, to let the blonde know she gave up and was in slight pain.

The blonde let go of the tan arm she had held captive, stroking it lovingly as Santana slowly worked the pain out of her joints and tendons. A loud bout of hollers and hoots ensued and Rachel heartily joined in, clapping at the show of skill and agility she had just witnessed. But Quinn's sudden appearance from the far side of the arena brought the last ten minutes back into the forefront of her memory.

Quinn caught sight of Rachel and bounded over to her happily, her arms widening for a bear hug that never came. In its place, Quinn's head recoiled at the burning she felt on her cheek as Rachel's palm connected with it. The momentum of the slap threw Quinn slightly off balance, though she managed to regain her ground in seconds.

The blonde turned back to her lover, her eyes catching sight of the hurt and despair in the chocolate pools that were defiantly boring into her. Quinn found her voice and her curiosity got the best of her, "Baby, what's wrong? What did I do?" Wrong question to ask, for Rachel's eyes widened and she slapped the blonde again, harder this time, the resounding slap making everyone cringe. As Quinn calmly moved her head back into place, the red outline of Rachel's hand slowly and painfully rose up from Quinn's skin. Hazel eyes nailed themselves to big brown ones, as Rachel's filled with tears. "How could you? And with _him_!" Her voice broke as the floodgates opened and saline tears ran down in rivulets down her face.

Quinn's brow furrowed as confusion bubbled inside her, making her stomach churn with an uncomfortable feeling that she couldn't name. The blonde wracked her brain looking for the logical explanation as to why Rachel seemed so distressed; finding none, she tried to remember what she had done with any man that could have her lover in such a sad state. Her eyes widened, "Rachel it wasn't what it looked like, I swear!" She reached out for Rachel, who evaded her hand like it was the devil's. Quinn continued, "Rachel, it was only a couple of shots and it was Puck, for crying out loud! Baby, you know I love _you_, you're the only one for me..." Quinn trailed off when Rachel's face turned into an adorable pout of confusion.

"Quinn, I'm not talking about Puck... I'm talking about Jesse..." Her voice was low and dropped of misunderstanding. Quinn's brow furrowed, and looking at her lady straight in the eye, she replied, "I haven't done anything with that horrible excuse of a man, if I could even call it that. Is this why you were mad at me? You thought I had done something with Jesse?" Rachel nodded, mad at herself from jumping to conclusions.

Quinn understood the body language that the brunette was communicating, and without thinking twice about it, she stepped forward and wrapped her toned, slender arms around the petite girl's waist. Rachel folded herself into Quinn, molding her body to the taller frame of the Musketeer, as she laid her cheek on the blonde's sternum. The powerful beating of Quinn's heart was soothing and strong beneath her cheek. "I saw him in a room, with a blonde, and he was screaming 'Quinn! Quinn!' so I immediately thought it was you. This woman looked so much like you from the back..." her voice trembled, and she pushed herself closer to Quinn, who tightened her arms around Rachel.

"It's okay, baby. You're only human, you're bound to make mistakes. As am I, as is Santana, and Brittany, and Puck, and everyone. We can't blame you for them, for we know that we have made mistakes equal to or worse than the ones you've made." As Quinn spoke, Rachel's tears fell from her chocolate pools, running down her cheeks and dripping from her chin, falling to sink into and soak Quinn's crisp, clean shirt.

The other three silently left, knowing when the loving couple needed time for themselves. Quinn and Rachel didn't notice their leave, too caught up in their moment to notice anything besides the other. Quinn rubbed soothing hands up and down Rachel's trembling back, the collar and chest area of the blonde's shirt soaked by the tiny girl's pained tears. A soft kiss was placed on the crown of chocolate locks, tiny fists tightening on Quinn's shirt.

When Rachel's tears and sobs start to subside, Quinn lightly pulled her lover out of her embrace, looking her in the eye and smiling softly. She cupped Rachel's face, tenderly making circles on wet cheeks, pulling her face in and kissing her in the forehead. Rachel moved her head up, capturing Quinn's soft pink lips with her own, kissing her slowly, lovingly. Quinn moved her lips with the duchess', letting her take complete control of the kiss.

A shy tongue skims lightly over her bottom lip, urging her to open her mouth. She willingly complied, her lips parting and Rachel's tongue dashing inside, tangling with the blonde's. A small moan made its way out of Rachel's slender throat, and Quinn's hands rose to Rachel's neck, pulling her head and mouth closer to her own. Rachel's hands weren't far behind, tangling in shaggy, silky blonde locks and tugging on them lightly. The kiss broke on its own, their foreheads naturally leaning against the other's.

"I'm sorry for thinking you'd cheat on me, Quinn. It's just, with everything that's been happening as of late, I just don't know what to think anymore. First, Jesse makes me believe he's changed, then he tries to take advantage of me, and now, hearing him scream out your name while he's... having sex with some blonde... I just don't know what to think anymore. But I never should've doubted you." Rachel's ramble had prevented her from noticing what Quinn had done, and as her words faded, her eyes widened as her eyes drank in the sight of her lover, down on bended knee, a smile etched on her beautiful face and a hand holding Rachel's.

"Rachel Berry, I love you. You and your crazy adorable personality are endearing to me, and I wanted to ask... If you get divorced from Jesse..." Rachel quickly corrected her, "_When_... When I get divorced from Jesse because it's to be a fact as soon as Sam and Amber get back..." Quinn's smile reached her ears, almost splitting her face in half, when she heard those news.

"Alright, then. When you get divorced from Jesse, would you do me the greatest honor and make me the happiest woman to roam the world... Rachel Berry, will marry me? I may not have a ring right now..."

"Yes. Yes, yes, yes! A million times yes, Quinn! Nothing would make me happier than to become your wife." Rachel launched herself into her lover's arms, kissing Quinn with all the passion and live she was capable of mustering. Quinn gave as much as she took, her smile never leaving her face.

* * *

><p><strong>God damn, nobody ever saw that coming...<strong>

**As always leave comments, I love to read them.**

**Any suggestions as to how things should move from here are more than welcome. I do know where this story's going, but I'd like to see what you guys have in mind :)**


	14. Red Masquerade, part 1

**Alright, peeps! I've decided to split the Ball into two chapters, since I think one LONG-ASS chapter will only confuse people. This is the first part, I'll update the second part as soon as I can, and then... TUN TUN TUN! Faberry sex chapter! So you have something to look forward to ;)**

**I would like to dedicate this chapter to my wonderful girlfriend, who I love with all of my heart, and my brother from another mother, Asher Henry, who I love as well. If you guys are reading this chapter, this one's for you guys. :)**

**Without further ado, please...**

**Enjoy :)**

* * *

><p><em>Countryside, Northern England - Musketeer brigade, Amber and Sam; date of the Janus Ball<em>

Getting into English territory was easier than they had originally thought. Apparently, having Sam with them left no space for anyone to argue against their coming. They had made good time from France to England and now they were mere miles outside Carlisle County; the Musketeers would be there by half past 9 that same evening, and just in time to make it to the Ball.

Sam and Amber led the way, striding over the emerald seas of land that surrounded the Castle. Stopping in top of a tall hill, Sam put a hand over his eyes, plan facing down, shading them from the bright rays of the setting sun. A few miles away, the shape of Carlisle Castle stood against the pink and purple hues of the sky, tall and ominous against such cheery colors that paint the firmament.

M. de Tréville reached him and the Englishman pointed towards the Castle. "There it is; Carlisle Castle. It is not heavily guarded since its location is a few miles out of any civilization. There used to be farmers around these lands, but Jesse's cruel and sadistic sex runs had them all leave to protect their families. There was one girl I remember, Sophie. She was beautiful, one of the kindest girls that I've had the pleasure of meeting. Anyways, Jesse had the same train of thought, but he saw her as just another girl for him to defile, and he did. He had his soldiers ransack the place, leaving her parents alive but taking her into the castle."

Sam swallowed around the knot in his throat, and continued where he had trailed off. "He had her placed in the dungeons, chained and naked, for whenever he was in the mood. He would take some soldiers as well and have them watch as he broke her, sometimes even going as far as having them join in his sick sex fest. After been raped for such a prolonged period of time and by so many beasts, the girl ended up pregnant. All the soldiers claimed it was Jesse's, and Jesse accepted it. He took her out of the dungeon and had her sleep with him, but she escaped one night, when he had drank even the water in the flower vases and was drunk past coherency and he passed out, pants down his legs and partially limp dick hanging down. I don't know what happened afterwards..." Sam let his sentence fly with the cool winter breeze.

M. de Tréville had been quiet while the blond man recounted Lord Jesse's horrific story, and he nodded, to no one in particular. He looked at Sam, and spared him the questions he wanted to ask him. "Shall we go on? We have to make to the castle at least a few minutes within its beginning, otherwise, people will suspect." Sam looked behind him, and saw Amber and M. Fabray laughing and talking animatedly. His eyes softened at the sight of his beloved, and turning back to M. de Tréville, he nodded. "On we go!" They marched down the side of the hill, their destination within their reach.

* * *

><p><em>Carlisle Castle - date of the Janus Ball<em>

Quinn awoke from her catnap to the feeling of Rachel laying on her, her tiny body cuddled into hers. Dark, luscious chocolate curls splayed over her collarbones and chest, with Rachel's tiny hands holding on tightly to Quinn's shirt. Quinn chuckled as she let her hand play with the soft tendrils of her lover's hair. A small purr from Rachel assured her to continue, and she let her free hand join, twirling pieces of Rachel's hair on her fingers.

Unconsciously, the tiny duchess burrowed herself further into Quinn's body and the blonde just smiled and wrapped her arms around her, more than happy to be lying in bed and embracing the woman she loved. Rachel's chest expanded as a huge yawn overtook her, and opening her eyes to the setting sun, she turned her head towards Quinn. Hazel eyes nailed to soft browns, and they showed nothing but love and adoration for the owner of said browns. Rachel bit her lip and shyly tucked her head under Quinn's chin, and mumbled a 'good evening' into the pale neck.

"Good evening, Rach. I love you." Hearing the soft declaration, Rachel's head snapped up and looked at Quinn. Confusion visible on both faces as the two girls stared at each other. Until... "I love you, too, Quinn." Unbelievable soft lips met an equal pair of lips in a tender caress, as both girls reacquainted themselves with familiar territory. It didn't seem to matter how many times they had kissed; to them, it still felt like the very first time.

Parting for breath, the petite brunette stretched, not noticing she was still on top of her soon-to-be-wife. Quinn only grabbed Rachel by the ribs and pulled her back into her, earning a squeal and several loud giggles as the two of them started to faux wrestle on the bed. When Quinn won the upper hand, she laughed triumphantly and bent down to kiss Rachel. The two kissed lazily, not caring about anything else but themselves for right now.

A knock at the door interrupted them, and as Quinn sat back up, the momentum of her own body plus the momentum of Rachel jerking upwards as well sent the lean blonde to the floor, where she landed with a silent groan. Another, more insistent knock at the door had Rachel scrambling out of the bed and into her robe as Quinn also stood up and regained some of her dignity, also slipping on her robe.

Ripping the door off its hinges, Rachel stood in the doorway while Jesse, as usual, strutted inside the chamber. He went towards the bed, but looked at it in disgust and decided against it. He stood in the middle of the stone chamber, and turned towards Quinn. "I hope that, by now, you know tonight is very important, for this castle and for me. This Ball will gather the wealthiest, most renowned and most powerful men in England under my roof." He strode towards her and raised a menacing finger, "If you manage to screw this up, the consequences will be more severe than you could possibly imagine. I've already given orders for all my soldiers to stay at their assigned posts, you included. If I see you roaming around the Castle, lashes will be the least of your worries." He spat in the blonde's face, who didn't seem fazed by any of it.

This is when Jesse took in their attire and general make up. Hair mussed, cheeks flushed, lips swollen, and clothed in robes. He sneered at them and walked out the door, not without smashing Quinn on the shoulder on his way out. Quinn only grimaced and looked at the shoulder he hit. "Aww, man. I liked this robe, but now he touched it and I gotta burn it. I don't wanna catch anything he's got." Quinn took the robe off and slipped Rachel's off as well while walking them towards the bathroom, where a big tub of warm-hot water waited for them, courtesy of Anna. "Charming, isn't he?"

Dressed in their usual attire, Quinn and Rachel made their way down to the kitchens. Having skipped a meal, their stomachs rumbled with hunger and screamed to be satisfied. While the blonde went to get them something to eat, Rachel watched her go, biting her lip to recent herself from smiling like a lunatic. _Tonight is the night, it has finally come. Tonight, I give myself to Quinn._ A kiss to the cheek brought her out of her musings, and she smiled, turning around.

Expecting blonde hair and hazel eyes, but finding brown curls and cold eyes instead, Rachel's smile fell right off her face. "Were you expecting your blonde whore instead of me?" Jesse chuckled as he got closer to Rachel, having her take a step back for every one he took forward. "Where is your little French bitch? Don't tell me she got bored of you already? Well, I think it's obvious here that she doesn't want you slutty pussy anymore. After telling her she was the only one and then going out and slamming Puckerman's cock, how'd you think she'd feel?" He wore a mocking sad face, until it gave way to fear at having a blade point digging into his back.

"Step away from my girl, dickwad, before I run you through like a kebab." Quinn's voice was low and spelled out danger. Jesse gulped while Rachel seductively licked her lips. _Dangerous Quinn was definitely a sexy Quinn... _Jesse's body soon stepped away from hers, moving around in a circle until Quinn prodded his back with the blade, sending him on his way. He speed walked away from them, the grinding of his teeth audible from such a far distance.

Rachel turned back to Quinn, who was biting her lip shyly and gazing at her boots. Tan arms swung around a pale neck, pulling herself up and closer to her lover. Quinn's sword less hand went to her duchess' waist, bringing the tiny brunette even closer to her lean body. "You looked so sexy, brandishing your sword and defending me." Heat rose up on beautifully pale cheeks at the hushed whisper. Rachel chuckled when Quinn didn't answer her, pulling her head back to look at the blushing statue of the Musketeer.

"I... I uh... I was just... you know? And he was... and you were... I didn't like the way he was standing so close to you!" Chocolate eye widened at the loud exclamation that fell from soft pink lips, narrowing as realization hit her: Quinn was... "Jealous... You're jealous. You can't stand Jesse being so close to me... And yet I don't understand, why the jealousy? You know I don't love him, that I love you instead... Do you not trust me?" Quinn's head was hung in shame; did she not trust Rachel? Of course she trusted her; Rachel was the one that had all the reasons to not want to be with Quinn.

"Of course I trust you, Rachel. It's just that... sometimes, I wonder... that if you were given a choice, I wonder if you would still choose to be with me, the freaky girl with a penis? Your life would be much easier. You wouldn't have to explain anything to anyone; if you fall pregnant, you wouldn't have to cover for your husband." Rachel blushed prettily at the thought of her, pregnant and round with Quinn's child. It was a beautiful image that greatly appealed to Rachel's heart; she wanted to be a mother, and who better to father her and Quinn's children than Quinn herself? Quinn's ranting brought her out of her thoughts of their Berry-Fabray children.

"Quinn..." Pink lips closed mid-sentence as Rachel looked adoringly at her blonde Musketeer. "Quinn, I love you and I would like nothing more than to make love to you and fall pregnant with your child, our child." Hazel eyes softened to caramel as Quinn smiled at the love of her life. Pink met cherry red as they kissed slowly, time soon forgotten. Air was required by the time their kiss was broken, bot smiling dopily at each other, adoration and love clear in their eyes. "I have to get ready for the Ball, and you gotta make sure you're not recognized." With this, both lovers made their way to their chamber, one needing to make a dramatic change and the other planning ways to, that night, seduce her lover.

* * *

><p><em>Santana, Brittany and Puck - Carlisle Castle Grounds<em>

The trio huddled outside the Castle, not wanting to be seen from the inside. Santana' could predict by what time Sam and Amber would be there with the rest of the Musketeers, since she knew how long it would take to cross the ocean from England to France and back, added onto the time that would take them to hit the Cardinal's Palace and the Musketeers' HQ and the time that would take to get from the Castle to the docks. The Spaniard knew that they would be back that night, she had planned for it to be so, and Santana always nothing but a great strategist; this field was where she excelled.

In the distance, Brittany's trained eye caught movement so she kept focusing on that part of the horizon. When the shadows thrown across the lands seemed to come alive and move towards the castle, she knew their reinforcements had arrived. Getting her lover's attention, Brittany pointed to the location of the Musketeer brigade. The three smiled; they now had the upper hand.

Puck had managed to swipe suits of armor of all sizes from the Castle's armory, so the Musketeers would dress up as Jesse's army, take the soldiers' positions and patrol around the Castle. The actual soldiers would be either dead, tied up, or drunk to the point of passing out. Overtaking the Castle seemed easier done than said. The brigade arrived to where the trip was and upon seeing her father, Santana threw her arms around him. "Dad, I've missed you so much!" Her voice was being muffled by his shoulder, and she felt him breathe in relief. "Thank God, Santana! I thought I would never see you again!" He kissed her forehead and brought her back into his loving embrace.

Brittany and Puck stood aside as father and daughter reunited after so long of being apart. When Santana motioned for them to get closer, they did as Santana made introductions. "Dad, this is Brittany, the love of my life." Russell hugged the blonde who hugged him back immediately. They pulled apart when Santana's voice announced, "And this is Puck. He's a good friend of ours." Both men shook hands and exchanged pleasantries while the Musketeers donned armor of the House of Carlisle. The Ball would be starting in mere hours and they had to be in position by the time the guests started to arrive. Santana and Brittany left Puck, Russell and M. de Tréville to deal with the battlements' patrols while they went up to help Quinn disguise herself for the Ball that night.

* * *

><p><em>Santana and Brittany's chamber - Quinn<em>

Pacing back and forth in the middle of Santana and Brittany's room, Quinn pulled on her shaggy blonde locks, knowing that for their plan to work she'd have to cut her hair short, like a guy's. She worried her bottom lip with her teeth as minutes slowly ticked by and her sisters weren't there yet. _The brigade must've arrived, and that's why they're not here yet. _She nodded to herself, satisfied with her logical train of thought.

Her musings were broken when the door was opened and the Spaniard came in, her girlfriend close behind her. Santana placed a chair in the center of the room, pushing Quinn down on it. The hazel eyed Musketeer swallowed with difficulty when her sister came back with a pair of scissors. Glinting and winking at her in the pale moonlight that peeked through the curtains of the room, the blades got close to hear head where the sound of sharp blades cutting through her blonde tresses could be heard. Quinn sat still as she watched her hair falling onto the stone floor. "You're gonna look so hot, Quinn. I'm positive Rachie will love it!" Brittany quipped as Quinn sent her a nervous smile. _I hope she does, _she thought to herself.

Minutes passed like hours would, and sometime later, Santana let Quinn stand up and walk to the mirror, gasping when she saw her new, much shorter hairstyle. "Now I won't have to worry about bed head," she pointed out as she shook her head. The golden locks were short enough to pass for a guy's but long enough so _someone_ could grip it tightly.

"Alright, shower up, stinky. Rachel will _not_ like it if you smell like a horse just took a shit all over you. Don't worry; we'll still be here to help you get in your boy toy get-up." Santana and Brittany laughed at the look on Quinn's face. Said blonde shook her head at them and went into the bathroom where a tub full of lukewarm water waited for her. She washed up thoroughly, drying herself off and putting on her underwear before stepping into the main room to meet the other two girls.

The scene that greeted her filled her with warmth and slight jealousy; Santana sat on the bed with Brittany on her lap, their lips locked in a passionate kiss as the Spaniard's hands roamed all over the other girl's body, stopping at a firm ass and squeezing the fleshy globes in her hands. Brittany groaned as her own hands delved deeply into the raven hair of her partner. She interrupted before things fouled get too hot between them.

A slight clearing of her throat slowly brought the two lovers out of their intimate bubble. "I need to finish getting ready and so do you. The Ball is scheduled to start at half past 10 tonight, and the so-called _numerous _and _illustrious gentlemen_ that St. Fuck-my-ass has invited will start to trickle in at quarter till 10, so we need to hurry. Am I correct to assume the brigade has arrived?" Her question was asked as the blonde go into the pressed dress trousers that she had Santana swipe from St. James' wardrobe.

"Yes, they've arrived... Father's with them. I thought you'd like to know." Quinn immediately stopped fastening her pants as her eyes quickly nailed themselves to her sister's. "He's here? Tana, dad's here? Oh, my God!" Mid-sprint and halfway to the door, Quinn was intercepted by Brittany, who pushed her back towards Santana to finish dressing. "Relax, Quinn. He will be joining us tonight as will M. de Tréville. They won't be going anywhere for some time." Santana smiled as Quinn visibly relaxed.

Quinn's grip on the dress shirt she had borrowed from Sam loosened as she swung her arms around to push her arms through the sleeves. It fit just right around her shoulders and arms while being loose enough so that her breasts wouldn't show. No matter that, she still had taped them down, just in case. Getting her mask and putting on the shoes, also borrowed from Sam, the hazel eyed blonde stealthily made her way to her own room, where she knocked softly.

Hearing Rachel's voice telling her to come in, she pushed the door open and entered her chamber. Her breath caught in her throat as her eyes drank in the sight of Rachel, wearing a beautiful red silk dress that exposed her shoulders and the top of her back. Rachel was also eyeing her lover who looked incredibly handsome and debonair in her disguise. Her short blonde hair was also styled to perfection and made her Quinn look indescribably sexy.

Striding over to the duchess, Quinn swooped her lover up in her arms, twirling her around before giving her a light kiss. Chocolate tresses fell down Rachel's back in teasing and alluring waves, and her dress hugged all of her curves just right. The squad neckline was low enough to show her collarbones and the swells of her breasts, but high enough to be called modest. Both lovers looked into each other's eyes before exchanging a quick kiss.

Quinn moved to the window, where she grabbed the grappling hook that Pick had thoughtfully left there and fastened it to the edges of the window sill. She turned to look at Rachel, "Santana and Brittany are coming down after me, so make sure to pull the rope up after the three of us are down." Rachel nodded her understanding of Quinn's instructions, and watched as the girl of her dreams lowered herself onto the dark ground beneath her.

Her door burst open and Santana and Brittany, both in a navy and a baby blue dress respectively, stormed to the window and they agilely lowered themselves to the ground, where Quinn and Puck were waiting for them. Rachel pulled the rope up as she had been told and put the grappling hook back in its hiding place seconds before a knock brought her to that night. _This is it, the Ball. And after that, Quinn and I will consummate our love._

She opened the door to find... "Sam, what are you doing here?" The blonde man walked in and closed the door behind him, his hand going into a pocket of his cape and pulling out the Cardinal's letter. "I thought you might wanna know what's gonna happen to your marriage with Jesse." He bowed to her and left, quietly shutting the door after him.

She eagerly tore open the letter, her eyes quickly scanning through the deft strokes and fancy script of the Cardinal's handwriting. A smile formed into her face as she sent a quiet thank you to the heavens above her. She folded the letter back up and put it safely in a drawer of her desk as Jesse's usual breaking and entering announced the time for the Ball had finally come.

* * *

><p><strong>No need to clap at my wondrous genius... 'cause I basically have close to nothing :P<strong>

**As always, reviews make me happy... they make me laugh, they make me think (which doesn't happen that often)... So please, take the time and give me a couple of words. :D**


	15. Red Masquerade, part 2

**Sorry for the hurried chapter, guys, but some of you are begging for the Faberry sex chapter NOW! So I got the Ball and infiltration out of the way. I hope some of you can forgive me for making it seem like shit happened too quickly...**

**I bring you the second part of Red Masquerade... Some of you may catch a little _something something_ called "retribution". If you catch it, good for you :)**

**Also, I've got two other fics on the works: Crimson Falls and Lips of an Angel. If you haven't already, you can check 'em out and tell me I'm a horrible writer :D**

**I wanna dedicate this chapter... To you guys. My readers, my followers, who have stuck with this story even if it was filled with a bunch of crap. This chapter is to you guys, and I applaud you. You are all amazing; you're all my bros and sisters in my heart :) I love you guys**

**That's it for my long-ass A/N, so... Enjoy :)**

* * *

><p>Going around the battlements, checking that all the soldiers were in place, Jesse thought about that night. <em>I don't care what she says, tonight Rachel will be mine! <em>He thought as he strode through the outer walls of Carlisle Castle. Thinking it was high time to claim what was lawfully his, he didn't even think to check that his soldier were actually his soldiers.

Going back inside the Castle, he sauntered cockily into the Ballroom where the orchestra was already set up and the floor was open for the dances. He saw Mme. Fabray, in a fitted gold dress and a black mask with gilded edges, standing at the edge of the Ballroom with a glass of champagne daintily held in her hand.. He smirked lightly as Alec, in a dark blue velvet suit and a white mask on his face, approached Mme. Fabray and engaged her in conversation, taking her champagne glass and switching it for a full one from the tray of a passing waiter.

The noise in the Ballroom started to increase as his guests started to arrive. He smiled amiably at the rich gentlemen, dressed in their most expensive suits, and the flirty gentlewomen, batting their eyelashes and smiling coquettishly at him. He humored them by flirting back and sharing as many innuendoes as they dished out for him.

He turned when the boisterous mix of laughter and music quickly dropped to background noise and hushed whispers. On top of the staircase, a beautiful girl in a red dress looked down at the dumbfounded and suddenly quiet guests. With a hand on the railing, Rachel slowly walked down, careful about not stepping on the bottom of her dress and eyes on a perfectly styled blonde head at the foot of the staircase. Sam's black silk suit and crimson shirt looked wonderful on her blonde Musketeer.

Quinn looked at Rachel like she was a goddess coming down from Heaven. She held her hand out for her duchess to grab onto, their fingers curling around each other's. Turning towards the dance floor, a tan arm snaked around her own. As the couple walked to the center of the dance floor, Jesse strode over to them, intercepting them with a tight lipped smile on his face. "Sorry, friend, but the first dance is customary of the lord and lady of the house. So I'm gonna ask for my _wife_ to dance with me right now to open the dance floor to our guests." He smiled smugly at Quinn; he thankfully hadn't recognized her as he spoke.

Roughly taking Rachel's arm in his hand, Jesse pulled her along to the center of the dance floor and tugged her to him, placing a hand on her waist. She grudgingly put her own hand on his shoulder. With a nod of his head, the orchestra started to play the waltz. Not having practiced any dancing after his last ball, years ago, Jesse had no idea on how to start the dance. Wanting to show him up, Quinn strode across the dance floor to where they were standing and courteously asked for the dance.

Turning red in embarrassment and ire, he sneered at Quinn as he bit out through his clenched teeth, "I'm sure I can remember it; I didn't spend years dancing it just to forget it when this dance is customary between the host and hostess, and traditionally, belongs to me and my _wife_. So please step back, friend, and let us show you how it's done." Jesse kept his emphasis on wife to mark his territory, but Quinn just ignored it and acquiesced his tantrum, stepping back into the throng of watchers.

Jesse started a dance randomly, trying to jog his memory into remembering the waltz. His feet stepped on Rachel's as he clumsily moved them around, twirling her and dipping her at the most random of times, his face scrunched up in thought as he tried to remember something that apparently was t coming back to him anytime soon.

Rachel was getting irritated at Jesse's apparent lack of dancing skills, and he kept glaring at him throughout the almost two minutes of their painful dance, if it could be called a dance to begin with, given that there was no rhythm, no fluidity to Jesse's movements as he stumbled around the floor. Her patience turned to smoke, she pulled away from Jesse and angrily stomped away from him, ignoring his yells telling her to come back.

A hand reached out and grabbed her forearm tenderly, making her look into those bright hazel eyes she had fallen deeply in love with. A wink told her to keep acting like she was mad, and lips moving made it seem like they were arguing. With a very convincing huff, Rachel and Quinn made their way back to the middle of the dance floor, where a boiling mad Jesse stood still, glaring at them both.

Making sure to keep her eyes off of him unless she wanted to be discovered, Quinn expertly put her hand on Rachel's hip, Rachel's hand on her shoulder and their free hands clasped together, Quinn turned to the orchestra and nodded, starting the waltz over again. Locking eyes, Quinn smoothly led them in the waltz. Twirling, spinning, dipping; their bodies resembled water as they moved together with the tempo of the orchestra. With the last chords of the waltz struck, Quinn and Rachel ended in very close quarters.

The silence was deafening as they finished. Quinn stepped away from Rachel, bowing and kissing her knuckles lovingly, winking at her duchess. She turned around, coming face to face with an enraged Jesse St. James. Slamming his hands against her collarbones and grabbing her shirt, he pulled her to him so he could snarl into her face. "Who do you think you are, huh? Listen here, buddy, I'm not gonna stand around and watch as you make a fool out of me in my own house!" His breath smelled strongly of alcohol, very recently he had been downing the bottles of liquors like water, since he'd had spread out across the room.

Loud footsteps brought them out of their almost fight. A guard was running into the Ballroom, sweat beaded on his forehead and his mouth open, gasping for breath, chest heaving with each intake. "Milord, we've been infiltrated!" As soon as those words were out of his mouth, glass windows all around the Ballroom were shattered as French militia jumped into the crowded room. Jesse's soldiers ran into the crowd as well and started to fight against the Musketeers. Swords clashed mightily as people screamed running around trying to get out of the impromptu battlefield.

Jesse turned to Quinn, and ripped her mask off, revealing her beautiful face marred by three reddening gashes on the side of her eye, where Jesse's nails had dug in. Getting their swords out, the two started to fight, the clashing of their blades blending in with the rest of the white noise. Quinn knew Rachel was safely in her chamber by now; Santana and Brittany had specific orders to get her out of the Ballroom before joining in to fight.

A loud roar brought all eyes to the staircase, where a crazed Santana stood on the railing. "Bring on the blood, bitches!" With that battle cry, her and Brittany joined in the fight but Quinn had lost Jesse. She ran around killing the English soldiers that got in her way. As she accurately nailed on guy in the eye, she saw Jesse's shadow disappearing down some stairs. As she was following him, a large group of soldiers, about six or seven, surrounded her, not giving her a chance to run after him. "You have got to be shitting me!" Quinn's frustrated groan was drowned out, and one soldier took that as his chance to attack her.

Slamming her boot against his gut, he doubled over and turned as she slapped him, gurgling when he stabbed him in the back and pulled her rapier out of him to turn and parry another blindside shot with it. Tugging it around so the blade caught the hilt of her sword, she pulled freeing it from its owner's hand and grabbing it, spinning to stab a guy through his breastplate with both blades. Two ran at her, and she kicked one on the ribs as she avoided the other one by mere millimeters. Turning on her heel, she grabbed the one with the aching ribs and pulled him in front of her just as the other guard shoved his spear in her direction.

She pushed the corpse away from her, slitting the spear-handling guy's throat quickly. The remaining two looked fearfully at her, a girl who had just taken out four of their comrades by herself. She raised both blades and they threw theirs on the ground, kneeling with their hands on their heads. Quinn took this moment to look around; the beautiful Ballroom was littered with dead bodies, both French and English. The formerly pristine walls were splattered with blood, and she chuckled amusedly as she saw a sword sticking out of the far wall, completely parallel to the floor.

She saw as M. de Tréville going around and getting the English soldiers that hadn't been killed, a couple of Musketeers helping him out and keeping an eye on the soldiers so they wouldn't try to do anything. She wasn't paying attention to her own captives, and a sharp, searing pain in her back was the price she paid for her mistake. Bringing her sword around, she caught her attacker in the neck, killing him instantly. Santana ran to her and extricated the knife from where it had been nailed, her shoulder blade. "Hey, sis... Say thank you it wasn't a fatal blow; Rachel would've had a fit if she found out you were dead. And you know who has to deal with all that drama? Me, that's who! So please keep your skinny ass otherwise intact." The Spaniard reproached her.

As soon as the tall brunette was done, Brittany arrived with mulled wine, needle and three to close up Quinn's shoulder wound. _Oh, great! Rachel will love this one... _"SHIT! Britt, that stung!" Quinn screeched, and Brittany only shrugged her shoulders, smiling slightly. "This is what you get for getting yourself stabbed in the shoulder blade. Who does that, anyways?" The blue-eyed blonde kept threading the needle in and out, pouring some wine on the wound every now and again. When she was done, she called out, "Hey, San? Do you have that hot poker yet? I need to cauterize the wound."

Quinn's eyes widened... A slight whimper escaped through her lips. Cauterize, with a hot poker... That Santana wielded... This couldn't be good... "DEAR SWEET MOTHER OF JESUS!" Quinn's bloodcurdling scream schools the very earth itself. Brittany held a trembling Quinn in her arms as Santana removed the poker from the sizzling and scorched flesh of her shoulder blade.

As her breathing slowed down, Quinn started to feel less pain on her back. It was more of a dull ache rather than the continuous burning that it had started as. She looked around the room once more and she saw the couples, together, gazing at each other and whispering sweet nothings. Puck and Anna holding hands and smiling at each other; Sam and Amber embracing tightly; Santana and Brittany caressing each other tenderly. She looked to the staircase, she had her own lover to go cuddle with. She dismissed them all and left M. de Tréville deal out sleeping arrangements. The Castle was big enough, they could manage to find space for everyone.

She ran up the stairs and passed a golden clad woman lying on top of an unrecognizable man dressed in dark blue velvet. She shook her head tiredly; she could deal with all this in the morning, but right now, Rachel waited for her and she wasn't gonna let her duchess waiting for her forever.

* * *

><p><strong>Raise your hand if you think I'm an idiot for hurrying this chapter up? *Raises hand* Am I the only that thinks I'm an idiot? Oh, well...<strong>

**Now... raise your hand if YOU JUST SHAT BRICK THAT TURNED INTO PINEAPPLES? *Raises hand again* Again, just me?**

**Review, review, review... as always... And do tell me if you actually did shit bricks that turned into pineapples...**

**Also, can I get a drum roll please? *Drums roll* Not that kind of a drum roll... THE MOMENT YOU ALL HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR...**

**NEXT CHAPTER IS... HOT... FABERRY... SEX! :D**


	16. Fever

**Alright, this may be crappy and kinda hasty, but waiting any longer and you guys would've ripped my head off.**

**I'm thinking of leaving this story on the side for a while, placing my attention on Crimson Falls and Lips of an Angel. If you haven't read them, people say they're good... Feel free to shoot me down :)**

**You've been waiting for it... You've been screaming at me to hurry the fuck up and get you this chapter... You've been shitting yourself unconscious over the thought of it... And now it's finally here!**

**I give you (although crappy and possibly the worst fail of my life) FABERRY CHAPTER SEX!**

**Enjoy :)**

* * *

><p>Jumping the stairs two at a time despite her legs feeling like rubber, Quinn managed to get to her chamber in record time. She took a deep breath before knocking lightly on the wooden barrier keeping her from her girlfriend. Even if this was her room, Quinn didn't want to barge into it in case it frightened Rachel. Receiving a faint 'come in' as an answer, Quinn opened the door, turning and locking it shut. Facing Rachel, her jaw hit the floor when she saw her beautiful duchess still clad in the red dress she had worn to the Ball.<p>

The brunette's aura oozed sensuality and innocence, and Quinn slowly walked up to her lover, cupping her cheek and tilting her head up to capture those tempting plump lips between her own. Both girls moaned at the contact, Rachel wrapping her arms around Quinn's neck, bringing them closer. Quinn's hand moved from Rachel's cheek to delve in flowery scented chocolate tresses, her free arm wrapping around Rachel's waist.

Their kiss was brought to a natural end, both girls panting lightly, their lips mere millimeters apart. Their foreheads rested together, their eyes locking in an infinite whirlwind of love and passion. The silence covered them like a blanket, wrapping around them and snuggling them with its warmth. Rachel's voice quietly broke the spell that had enveloped them, her words opening a new chapter in their lives, "I'm no longer attached to Jesse. The letter from the Cardinal confirms it; under the Church, my marriage has been dissolved."

Quinn's eyes widened before the news fully sank in; then her smile was so sudden and so wide that Rachel wondered how it hadn't split her face in half. "Really? Are you... really... separated from Jesse?" Rachel's nod was all it took for Quinn to scoop her up in her arms and spin her around, her smile seemingly attached to her face permanently. Rachel chuckled as Quinn slowly brought her back down and into a tender hug. Rachel lovingly burrowed into Quinn's warmth, taking in the delicious scent that was purely and uniquely Quinn.

Pulling back from their embrace, Rachel softly captured the Musketeer's soft pink lips in between her own. The innocence, the purity, the overwhelming tenderness of it all had Quinn whimpering in seconds. As she pulled back, a whispered plea was thrown to the wind. "Make love to me, Quinn." Hazel hues widened at the request before the tiny duchess pulled her in again for a more erotic kiss, making Quinn growl in desperation.

Their lips slid together, their hands roaming and rubbing each other's bodies. When Quinn's hands found her ass and pulled her in to grind their hips together, Rachel couldn't help but let out a needy whimper at the delicious friction that her lover created. Quinn's lips slid from Rachel's down to nip and kiss at the smooth, tan jawline up to the duchess' ear, where she whispered hoarsely, "I love you so much, Rachel. You mean the world to me," before she captured the earlobe between her teeth and tugged at it lightly.

Rachel moaned at the husky whisper that fell from Quinn's lips, burying her head in the Musketeer's pale shoulder, biting it tenderly, making Quinn growl. "Quinn, please, don't tease me. I've been waiting for this for so long, please, Quinn. Take me, baby, please." Quinn kissed down her neck and bit at her collarbone, dragging a moan out of the tiny duchess. Breaking their embrace slowly, Rachel's hands fell to Quinn's shoulders, as Quinn's went around the brunette's small waist.

Quinn's hands found the lace ties of Rachel's dress, and she slowly undid them, her eyes never leaving Rachel's as she did so. Pulling the two sides of the dress apart, her eyes drank in the sight of Rachel in nothing but a bodice and panties. Her hands dropped to Rachel's hips as Rachel's own fingers started to unbutton the red dress shirt that hid Quinn's torso from her eyes. Pushing the jacket and shirt off, her eyes drank in the pale expanse of smooth skin and firm muscle of her lover's abdomen, trailing her eyes up to firm breasts and defined collarbones.

Moving down, Rachel's fingers nimbly undid Quinn's pants, letting them drop to the floor. Now that both were in a similar state of undress, Quinn's hands cupped Rachel's face again, kissing her tenderly and pouring all her love into that one kiss. Rachel responded in kind, moving her lips along with Quinn's, both of their hearts accelerating at what they were about to do. Quickly undoing Rachel's bodice and taking off her panties, Quinn kissed up Rachel's left leg, licking and nipping every once in a while.

Rachel's darkened gaze looked on as that blonde head reached the apex of her thighs, and the brown orbs widened as Quinn took a deep breath, Rachel's scent taking over her senses. She slowly looked up to her lover's eyes as her hands moved smooth tan legs apart. Never breaking their stare, Quinn licked a broad stripe from Rachel's entrance to the hardened bundle of nerves, making Rachel jolt as one of her hands tightly grasped blonde locks.

The taste of Rachel covered every taste bud and Quinn yearned to taste her again, as her tongue kept licking and lapping up Rachel's juices. Slim hips bucked into her as Quinn's tongue found Rachel's entrance and slowly delved into it, a pale nose rubbing against Rachel's clit with every move. Her neck was cramping at the awkward angle her head was at, but she ignored it as she kept pleasuring her girl. With a deep thrust of her tongue into Rachel, the tiny girl came with a cry of 'Quinn!' that rattled the entire Castle to its foundations.

Standing back up, Rachel switched positions with her as she lowered herself down to take Quinn's underwear off, from which a spectacular tent could be seen. Throwing away her notion that she would never suck anyone off again, Rachel pulled down Quinn's underwear, freeing the girl's massive cock. Although she had seen it before, Rachel still gaped at the sheer size of it. She had thought it was big when half hard, but now it stood proudly perpendicular to the ground in all its naked and erotic glory. Taking hold of it in her hand, Rachel's eyes looked up to stare at hazel hues as Quinn gasped.

"I want to taste you, Quinn." As soon as these words left her mouth, Rachel's tongue poked out to lick at Quinn's slit. Her hips bucked as her hands swam in chocolate tresses, and Rachel did it again, swiping the precum off of Quinn's slit with her tongue and tasting her. But now she needed more, and she licked the underside from the base to the tip and back down with Quinn's moans egging her on.

In a bout of courage, Rachel took Quinn in her mouth, making the blonde groan in pleasure. She wrapped her lips around the thick length, pulling all the way back to the tip before going back in. Quinn's hips didn't move as she didn't want to harm Rachel while she sucked her dick. Her eyes widened as she growled out in pleasure when Rachel took her all the way down to the hilt, the tip of her cock pushing against the back of Rachel's throat.

Humming around Quinn's cock, Rachel trailed her eyes up to find Quinn's mouth open in a silent scream and her eyebrows scrunched in pleasure. This sight boosted Rachel's ego like nothing else; her heart swelled at the obvious sight of her beautiful Quinn at the razor's edge of bliss. When Quinn's hands tightened considerably in her hair, and Quinn's harsh whisper of 'Rachel, I'm gonna cum. You gotta pull away, I'm gonna cum' reached her ears, she knew that she had to have a taste of Quinn's come.

She kept Quinn's dick inside her mouth as the blonde's balls tightened. The dick twitched inside of her mouth as Quinn screamed her name in the violent maelstrom of her orgasm. "RACHEL!" Thick spurts of come were shot out of Quinn's dick and into Rachel's throat, who got even wetter at the taste of her lover, which was simultaneously tangy and sweet. Rachel didn't move as Quinn appeared to be emptying her testicles in that one orgasm. Sometime later, Quinn's orgasm had subsided and Rachel let go of the still hard cock with an audible 'pop'.

The Musketeer pulled her duchess up to capture her lips in a hungry kiss that stirred their arousal once more, wanting them to physically profess their love for one another. Pulling away from Rachel's lips, Quinn locked eyes with her as the blonde walked them both towards their bed. Laying down first and pulling Rachel on top of her, Quinn nuzzled the smooth column of tan skin in front of her before kissing her tenderly. "I love you so much, Rachel. And tonight, what I want doesn't matter. If you don't want to do this, we can wait for as long as you need." Rachel smiled lightly at her lover's protective side, swooping down and stealing a chaste kiss from soft pink lips.

"I love you, Quinn, and I want you. I'm sure of this; tonight is the night. I want you to take my virginity and make me yours. I would like nothing more than for us to be united as one, in the most intimate of ways." Rachel's eyes stared down at Quinn's and the Musketeer could feel tears burning behind her eyelids, and as they escaped, she smiled at Rachel and moved her head up to kiss those lips, tasting herself on them and groaning deeply at the memory of Rachel's mouth on her cock.

Rachel shuffled to straddle her lover's hips; the longing she felt for the lean body underneath her was finally going to be sated. Quinn held the duchess' hips as the tiny brunette placed the thick and hard length at her entrance. "Baby, this is gonna hurt. If you want me to stop, just say so and I will. You don't have to do this..." The Musketeer's sentence was cut off by a plump pair of lips taking over her own, a tongue sliding in past them and playing with her own.

Breaking apart, Rachel breathed into Quinn's ear, "Quinn, _I want this_. So, please, stop trying to make me change my mind," tugging at her earlobe afterwards. Quinn groaned as Rachel's hand grabbed her cock again, and, pumping it in her tiny hand, placed it at her moist entrance. The blonde's grip on the tiny girl's hips tightened as Rachel braced herself on Quinn's shoulders.

Hazel and brown met as both girls locked eyes, their brains thinking the same thing, '_this is gonna hurt. Do it in one thrust.'_ At Rachel's nod Quinn took a deep breath, and bit her lip. Without preamble, she thrust her hips to meet Rachel's, and Rachel's fingers tightened on her shoulders, her nails breaking the skin, as she screamed. The lean blonde let her body fly up to tightly embrace her lover at the very first sign of discomfort.

Long pale fingers caught the tears that escaped from melted chocolate pools, as Rachel trembled in Quinn's arms, her own limbs wrapped around Quinn's neck. Soft pink lips kissed tear stained cheeks, her relies, her forehead, murmuring soothing words as the duchess got her bearings back and the pain subsided somewhat. She pushed Quinn back into the bed, her eyes still brimming with unshed tears but darkening considerably at the feeling of Quinn's massive length buried to the hilt inside her.

"You can move, but slowly at first. I need to get used to you inside me," Rachel's breathy whisper sent shivers through the pale girl's spine, making her dick jump. Pale hips stayed frozen as Rachel slid up and down on the hard member, her face screwing up in pain every time she slid downwards. Hazel hues found her member, widening at the sight of blood mixed with Rachel's natural juices. Looking back up to see Rachel biting her lip, back arched and breasts bouncing, Quinn started rocking her hips slowly.

Rachel's moans broke through, filling the silent chamber with stirring sounds of passion and love. Quinn drowned in the image of her beautiful duchess gasping her name as her pussy sheathed her dick, rocking her hips and pushing both of them closer and closer to the proverbial edge of carnal pleasure. Adding an angle to her thrusts, Quinn's cock delved deeper in the velvet warmth that encased her, making Rachel cry out her name when she found her sweet spot and repeatedly hit it with the head of her penis.

"Oh, my God! Quinn, you're so big. You're stretching me so good! I'm so close, Quinn!" Rachel's sentences were strung together by moans and groans as her head swung forward and their eyes met through the sexually charged abyss that stretched between their chests. Sitting up, Quinn captured a pebbled nipple in her mouth, licking, nipping and sucking at the tender skin, the taste of sweat and something that was only Rachel mixing deliciously in her mouth.

Rachel's hands held her head at her nipple, as her hips gyrated and bounced on top of Quinn, her pussy stretched beyond belief by the thick meat currently thrusting into her. Quinn's hazels widened when she felt the tell-tale tug low on her abdomen and the tightening of her balls. She switched to lick the lonely nipple as one of her hands rubbed Rachel's clit.

Rachel screamed Quinn's name as her walls fluttered and collapsed on the thick cock, choking it and milking it as the blonde groaned her own release, Rachel's name falling breathlessly from her lips. Both sets of hips jerked as their orgasms shook their very souls, both girls knowing that no one else would make them feel as complete or make them come as hard as each other.

Shuffling, trying to get off of Quinn, the tiny duchess felt the girl's dick inside her and was thoroughly amazed when she realized that the Musketeer was still hard. Taking her eyes over the blonde's toned body, she appreciatively settled them on the pale girl's heaving chest. She lunged for her and covered a pale pink nipple in her mouth, suckling it while one of her hands made itself busy with the other mound.

Letting out a moan, Quinn let her long pale digits swim in an abundance of chocolate locks, keeping the apparently ravenous duchess' mouth on her breast. Their hips start moving again of their own accord, slowly gyrating and rocking together in a rhythm they had just gotten done practicing. Rachel switched breasts as they both sat up, pale arms safely around her waist. Pulling away from the delicious nub, the brunette's hands anchored on Quinn's strong shoulders and, looking her girlfriend in the eye, she purposefully rose up before slamming herself back down onto the turgid cock. Quinn's sharp exhale of breath had Rachel smirking inwardly, _she looks so adorably and innocently sexy when she's not in control._

Plump lips neared her ear, her mouth near but not close enough to the dusky peak on a firm tan breast. She shuddered when she heard Rachel's sensual voice, husking into her ear, "Turn us around, Quinn. I want you to love me, I want you on top of me." Her earlobe got taken between those perfectly straight white teeth and tugged lightly, as Quinn nodded her acquiescence. Carefully, she turned both of them around, laying Rachel softly on the bed, never pulling out of her.

When she was sure that Rachel was comfortable, she braced herself on her hands and started to thrust slowly into Rachel, who whimpered every time she went in. Rachel's eyes took in the beauty that was Quinn, sweat lightly coating her skin and love pouring from every nook and cranny in her body. She found this image to be a whole new level of eroticism: Quinn Fabray, hovering above her and thrusting powerfully into her. She got even wetter just thinking about it, and Quinn must've felt it for her thrusts picked up speed as she moved a toned tan thigh to rest against her shoulder.

Sweaty skin slapping sweaty skin, their moans and groans, all filled the otherwise dead chamber. "Fuck, Quinn! I'm so close, I'm gonna cum!" Rachel's shrill voice reached Quinn's ears as her pace started losing its rhythm, her hips jerking wildly. She could feel Rachel's walls starting to clamp on her cock, and she couldn't help but want her girl to orgasm twice before she herself lost her shit. With every thrust, she could feel her dick rubbing against the tiny girl's clit, making Rachel jolt with each rub.

"Rachel, I'm so close! Baby, I'm gonna... I'm gonna... Oh, shit!" Quinn's words failed her as the pleasure increased inside of them, waiting to break out and take them both for a ride on the pleasure train. Quinn's balls slapped against Rachel's ass with every thrust, the sound getting quieter as they tightened, signaling Quinn's release.

With one last thrust, their voices mixed as they reached an unbelievable crescendo of carnal bliss. "Oh, RACHEL!" The brunette's walls shuddered and trembled as Quinn filled her hungry womb with her seed. "Oh, God, QUINN!" Quinn emptied herself inside Rachel, her arms locked to prevent her limp body from falling on top of Rachel's. As both girls got their breath back, and their orgasms subsided, they kissed tenderly, their tongues tangling over and over again in a dance that they knew intimately.

Completely spent after their first time, both girls got under the light covers and cuddled close to one another, their bodies still warm and slick with sweat, as sleep overtook them.

* * *

><p>Few hours later, Rachel woke up with a jolt when she felt new arousal stirring inside of her. <em>This can't be possible, Quinn and I did it, twice, not more than two hours ago. <em>Turning to see her lover laying on her back with an arm across her face and shielding her eyes, Rachel smiled at the softly snoring Musketeer. That is, until a pronounced tent caught her eye. _I reiterate, we did it TWICE, not more than TWO HOURS AGO. How is she hard again?_

Her mind suddenly took a turn for the naughty, and she bit the corner of her lip to prevent a mischievous smile from coming out. She got out of bed and walked to the foot of it, and grabbed the covers with her fists. Pulling them down with a strong tug, she looked hungrily as Quinn's cock flopped back and laid onto the slumbering girl's stomach. She crawled up Quinn's body, her body coiled like a lioness about to pounce onto her prey.

Her hands found her lover's penis and tenderly tried to squeeze it, loving the groan that ripped through Quinn's chest and out of her throat. She let one hand stay on the thick meat, the other one ghosting down to the girl's testicles, holding onto them and feeling the warmth that permeated them. Lightly tugging on the sperm filled testicles while pumping the thick length, Rachel smirked again as Quinn's hips bucked against her knowledge.

Looking at the cock again, she remember how good it had felt when she had Quinn inside her mouth, the taste of her come as it shot out of the dick. Bringing her head near to the tip of the hard member, she poked her tongue out and licked it, precum tickling her taste buds. Laving the rosy baton with her tongue, Rachel took it inside her mouth, dragging her teeth along its veiny surface. She had seen Jesse's cock and been repulsed by it, tiny as it may have been, but comparing it to Quinn's, she realized that it's not that she disliked the cock... It was more that she disliked the person that it hung from.

Throwing thoughts of Jesse far away from her mind, she kept kissing Quinn's cock, smiling when she felt a hand delving into her hair and wrapping itself around thick strands of it. "Baby... Isn't it a bit early to be doing this again?" Quinn's amusement was slightly drowned out by the thick grogginess and sleepiness that still blanketed her mind, therefore her voice as well. Rachel giggled around the cock, making the pale digits in her hair tighten considerably as the vibrations from her throat jolted Quinn's cock.

Sneakily, her free hand left Quinn's testicles and moved it down to her pussy, where she found silky wetness covering the tips of her fingers. Pulling the cock out of her mouth and giving it a light kiss on the tip, she jumped to straddle the blonde, whose hands found her hips like they had done mere hours back. Aligning the hard member with her dripping entrance, Rachel didn't hesitate to slam herself down on it.

Feelings hands pushing forcefully on her hips, Rachel confusedly furrowed her brows as Quinn sat up and started getting off of the bed, with her still on top of her. Hooking her strong arms under Rachel's soft thighs and placing her hands on slim hips. Rachel's arms snaked around a pale column of flesh, her hands curling into soft blonde tufts of hair. Her mouth got to work on her neck, biting and sucking at the yielding flesh as Quinn's hips and legs worked overtime to thrust and keep them both off the ground.

Her ego was immensely boosted when she saw the mark on Quinn's neck, a mark that was put there by herself as they made love. That mark was a claim that she established on Quinn, and she wanted the blonde to do the same to her. She wanted to proudly display the mark that the Musketeer had stamped on her body. The thought made her clench, and before she knew it, she was cumming hard on Quinn's cock, her juices dripping from her entrance and running down pale thighs.

Quinn's dark hazel eyes got even darker as she basically tore into Rachel, her hips losing all rhythm and taking on the brute strength of a crazed bull claiming his mate. Her eyes fell on Rachel's delectable neck, her body ahead of her brain.

She bent down and bit hard on Rachel's pulse point, her teeth abusing the tender flesh, her tongue soothing the reddened spot before biting it again and repeating the process. Rachel bucked wildly as she felt teeth at her neck, her nails digging into and scratching pale toned shoulder blades. Her walls clamped down again as a second orgasm sneaked upon her and ripped through her, throwing Quinn off of her own cliff, as she chokes out the duchess' name, emptying herself into Rachel once more.

"Okay, baby. I can't go anymore. I'm sorry, but you gotta give me time to recover. I feel like I will pass out if I keep coming as hard as I've been doing" Quinn's whisper was responded by a breathless chuckle, before Rachel let out, "Quinn, I feel the exact same way. 'M sleepy," she mumbled onto Quinn's shoulder, snuggling into her. Quinn kissed her forehead as she maneuvered them back on the bed, pulling the covers over them. Before sleep overtook her, she laughed quietly as she realized that Rachel had fallen asleep with her still fully sheathed. _She'll probably wake up horny as all hell from the overnight stimulation. Oh, well..._ Her eyes closed, and minutes later, she was welcomed into the unconscious world.

* * *

><p><strong>*shotguns cock* Alright, alright, alright! I didn't think it was that bad... This only goes to show that I can't write smut. Sad Pandas :'(<strong>

**Anyhow, I want you to tell me how bad I did, even if it is just a 'this is shit! give up writing altogether!' I still want you to tell me.**

**So review, review, review :) I'll still love you guys even if you hate this chapter...**


	17. Chapter 17

**Not my place to say anythign since I'm not living in the US anymore but I have loads of friends there, some of you guys included, that still live there, so... in celebration of SCOTUS repealing DOMA and dismissing Prop8, I'm giving you TWO stories' updates today.**

**I hope you enjoy them.**

**Here's the first one.**

* * *

><p><em>Quinn wakes up with moonlight still streaming through the thin curtains. Her arms are wrapped around a really warm, really soft and really feminine waist. Her face is buried in a flowery scented ocean of chocolate locks. Her cock throbs to life as she realizes she's spooning Rachel, the brunette's ass snug against the blonde's hips.<em>

_When Rachel sighs in her sleep and pushes her hips back onto Quinn's growing erection, Quinn can't help but let out a really loud groan. Wide-eyed, she covers her mouth, hoping Rachel was still sleeping._

_No such luck._

_She feels the sheets moving about and then a small and warm hand gripping her throbbing phallus tightly, languidly pumping it._

Her hips bucked and the Musketeer realized that she wasn't dreaming; she was spooning Rachel and the brunette's hand had made its way to her raging hardness.

The duchess' dainty hand was wrapped around her thick meat and her thumb was swiping the precum that leaked from the tiny slit. Quinn moaned as she pushed her hips faster against her lover's hand, jacking off with its aid.

"Rachel, baby... I'm gonna cum. God, _fuck_! I'm gonna... _shit_!" Quinn's hips rutted forward and stopped as she came all over Rachel's naked ass, thick ropes of hot seed hitting the firm skin of the duchess' buttocks.

Rachel, feeling the drops of semen on her bare butt, turned around and straddled Quinn's hips, the French soldier's cock still saluting her, and hungrily kissed her, devouring the soft and pink lips of the woman beneath her. Quinn responded to her kisses, able hands tightly gripping curvy and tan hips as they rolled lazily on top of her aroused member.

But her eyebrows furrowed in confusion when Rachel got off of her and stood up from the bed, walking backwards to the window with a 'come-hither' look in her mahogany orbs. Quinn didn't think twice about following her.

She quickly made her way to where Rachel was leaning against the window frame, the last rays of silvery moonlight hitting her perfectly bronzed skin and making her look like a sex goddess. "You are so incredibly beautiful, Rach. I see it every day but I still can't get over that fact and the fact that you're mine, you're gonna be my wife. It still feels like a dream." Quinn muttered, not wanting to speak too loud and break the atmosphere that had been created.

"Believe it, Quinn. We're going back to France and we're gonna get married, we're gonna have a beautiful child that will look just like you and we're gonna be happy. Nothing and no one will come between that." Rachel breathed, softly claiming Quinn's lips.

"So, what are we doing by the window? It's kinda cold." Quinn chuckled lightly.

"A while back, I had a dream..."

"...really?" Quinn's brow rose.

"...in which there was a figure standing right here. I walked to it and it turned out to be Jesse..."

"...Jesse?! The fuck?!"

"Let me finish!" Rachel laughed at her lover's antics.

"Sorry. Continue."

"Long story short: I've imagined having sex with you against the window frame, and I thought we could do that... right now."

On the outside, Quinn's disbelief was apparent. On the inside... her head had exploded when thoughts of taking her lover, soon-to-be wife, against the window frame entered her head.

"Quinn? Are you okay?"

"...yeah... I'm more than okay." Quinn smiled lopsidedly at Rachel, who grinned back and kissed her on the lips, the sensual touch quickly turning into an erotic fight, both sets of lips ravenously devouring the other.

In one quick move, the Musketeer grabbed and held onto the english woman's thighs, pulling her up off the ground and wrapping the incredibly long and sexy extremities around her waist, while Rachel's arms snaked around the french soldier's neck, fingers delving into choppy and wild blonde locks.

Tugging at them, she was rewarded with a feral growl coming from deep within Quinn's chest and she smirked against the kiss-swollen pink lips before guiding her own plump pair down to an alabaster neck, where she bit and nipped and sucked and licked until Quinn was desperately bucking her hips against Rachel's.

"Get inside me, baby. I need you." Rachel whispered into the blonde's ear, making her release a groan as she lined herself with Rachel's soaking pussy.

One thrust meant Quinn's length was in, and they both groaned loudly at being joined once again.

Quinn stopped for a second, getting her breath back and getting used to the tight warmth that surrounded her penis. _I can blow at any second and I can't have that,_ she thought as she slowly pumped inside a writhing Rachel, her amazing girth rubbing on all the hidden pleasure spots inside the tiny brunette.

Rachel felt the cold stone against her back, the low temperature added to the arousal making her nipples harden, drawing the attention of lust and love filled hazel orbs.

Quinn dove down and captured a dusky pebbled bud with her mouth, beating it with the tip of her tongue and biting it softly, tearing gasps from Rachel's throat and making the brunette tug harshly on her rebellious hair.

Their lips fused once again, teeth ferociously tugging on lips and clamping down on tongues as the Musketeer thrust harder and faster inside her lover.

The sky gradually changed from inky blacks and indigos to soft baby pink and butter yellow hues with the rising of the sun.

"God, baby, faster, faster, I'm almost there. _Ugh_, harder, Quinn!" Rachel was actively bouncing on Quinn's cock, a tiny hand grabbing onto a full pale breast, tweaking the nipple between her finger and thumb before harshly dragging her nails down the taller girl's toned stomach, releasing a hiss from the blonde's lips.

The sun broke over the horizon as Quinn stilled her movements as she came inside Rachel, thick ropes of gooey cum making their way to the tiny brunette's hungry womb.

Quinn let her forehead fall softly onto Rachel's, the two girl's staring at each other lovingly, breathing heavily in the afterglow of their lovemaking.

"Marry me?"

It was a whisper but the way it rang and echoed in Rachel's ears, it might as well have been a multitude screaming.

The French woman's hazel eyes looked into her own chocolate pools as they awaited an answer.

Rachel just kissed Quinn on the lips, pouring all her love and adoration out from her lips to the blonde's own pink pair, before uttering a whispered 'yes'.

Quinn's arms wound around Rachel's tiny waist and spun them both around, laughing joyfully.

They ended back in their bed, a smiling Rachel under a giddy Quinn, and they kissed again, a rocking motion starting soon after that.

It was slow, their movements unhurried and lazy, as they touched and explored the other's body, getting to know every nook and cranny, every valley and mound, every dip and curve that made up the anatomy of the person they had fallen desperately in love with.

When their climax hit, they both kissed each other in the same lazy fashion, letting the orgasm subside and resting against each other.

Quinn pulled out, getting a groan from her lover, and moved a little ways down to rest her head on Rachel's chest, her left hand on a tan flat tummy that would soon, hopefully, bear their children.

"I love you." Was breathed out by the brunette.

"Je t'adore, aussi." Was the lazy yet heartfelt reply she got.

"You sound so sexy when you speak in French."

"Je sais." Quinn nodded.

"Say something else." Quinn thought about it until she got something.

"You wanna know what else I know?"

"What?" The brunette asked and held her breath when Quinn got close to her ear, her lips brushing over the outer shell of her ear as they caressed the words that came out of her mouth.

"Je sais... que tu es faite pour moi." With those words hanging in the air; the duchess reached a hand to clasp around the Musketeer's neck and pulled her towards her, merging their lips in a passionate lip-lock.

They kissed for what seemed like an endless moment, never getting enough of each other.

They didn't separate until a resounding knock on their door pulled them apart.

_"Q!"_ Santana's voice phased through the wooden door and Quinn quickly threw on some breeches and a shirt and, after making sure that Rachel was properly covered up, opened the door to find her sister looking pallid and sick. Almost as if she had seen a ghost.

"San? What's going on? Why are you so pale? What happened?" The frantic blonde was bombarding her sister with questions and Rachel discreetly dressed in her rumpled red dress and went to see what had gotten the usually composed Santana so wound up. She reached the sisters yet abruptly froze in her tracks upon seeing the Spaniard in the eyes; something haunted the Spanish girl, something that Quinn didn't know about.

"Um... dad is downstairs, we found something -_someone_- that has teared him to pieces, and it probably will do the same to you." Santana whispered, the tension too heavy to speak louder than that.

"Santana, you're speaking in riddles that I can't make heads or tails or. What's going on?" The blonde repeated, grabbing her sister by the shoulders.

"Just... come down and see for yourself." The Spaniard sighed, not having the guts to tell her sister what she would find once she was on the ground floor.

Quinn didn't wait for a second before bolting out of the room and toward the stairs.

Santana's head hung low and she breathed heavily through her nose. Rachel approached her.

"Santana? Are you alright?"

"NO! I'M NOT ALRIGHT, RACHEL!" Santana blew up at the shorter brunette's quiet utterance before she could stop herself.

Rachel flinched at the angry tone that spilled from Santana's lips.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to explode at you like that." The Musketeer mumbled, and continued after hearing Rachel's timid 'it's okay'. "It's just that... before we left Chartres, about a week before, our mother told us of a trip she was going on come January with our other sister, Charlotte. Now, the day prior to our leaving Chartres for Paris, I caught our mother with another man. They talked about how our, Quinn and mine, desire to join the Musketeers was not the proper thing for girls our age to do; how we should be looking for men to marry and settle down, raising a family." Rachel raised an eyebrow and Santana was quick to explain. "It's not that we don't want marriage, cause we do, but first we wanted to serve our country and our King so that when our kids were born, they could have something, a reason, for them to be proud of us. But as I was saying, I found her with another man, and it made me feel sick: this woman that we had looked up to for so very long was nothing more and nothing less than a common whore that slept with any man that crossed her path, having no qualms about disrespecting our father's home or the fact that they have two daughters and a grandson that reside in the same fucking place."

"I thought you were their adopted daughter?"

"I am, but given the fact that I couldn't give less of a shit about that woman for reasons that you don't need to know, I exclude myself from the disrespect circle." Santana explained, then she lifted a hand and rubbed it over her face with a loud sigh. "We should go downstairs; Quinn must broken by what she saw."

They moved to the door where Rachel gets the courage to ask. "Who was that someone down there?"

Santana waited a beat before replying in an emotionless tone. "Our mother."

* * *

><p><em>Quinn<em>

_Goddammit! Santana couldn't have been more vague about what has dad so broken..._ The blonde ran swiftly down the steps, skipping the last four steps and landing on the ground at the foot of the staircase. She turned her head to see where her father may be, and saw him on her left, hunched over someone that Quinn couldn't see.

She moved towards him but came to a stop when she caught sight of a blonde woman laying on the bloodstained floor, her golden dress splattered with hues of crimson, dark red and rusty brown. the blonde approached slowly, wanting to give her brain a chance to catch up with her eyes. _Oh, my God! No! It can't be! She was supposed to be in Nice right now... What the hell is she doing here?!_

Quinn's breathing started to get short and she fell on her knees at the sight of her mother, laying dead on the floor of St. James' Castle.

"Dad... Dad." Quinn gasped and her father spun to face her, instantly going over to her and wrapping his arms around her shaking frame, both sobbing over the death of Judy Fabray, not knowing all the things she had done to both of them.

"Quinn, praise the Lord, you're alive. You're alive, Quinn!" Russell kissed her youngest daughter on the forehead and hugged her even tighter to himself.

Santana and Rachel walked down the stairs and came upon that touching scene, and the shorter brunette couldn't hold in a sob at watching her beloved cry bitterly at the loss of her mother. Santana had to look away from the corpse of her pseudo-mother, bile rising and leaving an unwanted taste in her mouth at the truth behind Judy Fabray._ I can't tell them right now, they're in too fragile a state and this would just about kill them from grief._

Quinn gasped for breath as her father held her and twisted around to catch sight of her lover silently crying behind her, her sister looking away from them with a pained expression on her face. Brittany swiftly moved over to her own lover and wrapped her in her arms, Santana's hands fisting the back of the taller girl's shirt.

The two Fabrays breathed deeply and stood up, regaining control of their errant emotions in a matter of seconds.

"We'll have the body transported back to Chartres so we can bury it properly on the family mausoleum." Russell spoke and this was what broke Santana's resolve to tell them later.

_Oh, fuck no! Bitch don't get that privilege!_ "No!" Santana shouted and everyone turned to look at her.

"Santana, what's wrong?" Russell was concerned about this angry outburst from his adopted daughter.

"She doesn't deserve being buried with the rest of the illustrious Fabrays."

"What makes you say that, Tana?" It was now Quinn's turn to look at her sister, confused.

"There's something - several things in fact- that neither of you know about."

"Out with them then, Santana." Russell demanded.

"Mom... _Judy_ was sleeping with another man, dad. That day last winter when you asked us to come in while we were training, we passed by her room on the way to our respective chambers and we heard her saying some really hurtful things... you remember, don't you Quinn? Your 'defects'?" The blonde nodded sadly with her head hung low, and Rachel went to her side, tightly embracing her. "Quinn fled at that second while I stayed behind, wanting to confront her about saying those things about her own child, yet witness another man with her in your bed, dad. I didn't want to believe it but then they started to actually fuck and I couldn't stay there, with the sounds coming from inside that room drilling my ears and breaking my heart."

"It's that what you were gonna tell me that day? That she was cheating on dad?" Quinn quietly interrupted and Santana could only nod. The Musketeer passed saliva with difficulty, her throat having closed up due to the grief and now ire that filled her body.

"Who was the man, Santana?"

"I don't know who he was, dad, but he had a scar on the side of his face, it's really hard to miss and if I were to see him again, I'd know who he was immediately." Santana affirmed in a low voice.

"Can it be him?" M. de Tréville motioned to two of his soldiers to drag in a man in dark blue velvet. They laid him on his back and Santana took a look at his face before confirming that yes, this was the man that Judy Fabray had been sleeping with.

Russell walked over to where the body was and with a loud growl, snapped his leg forward in a powerful kick to the dead man's head. The limp cranium spun to the side and Russell spat on it, a loud 'burn them both' ordered over his shoulder as he left the room, with his daughters and their respective girlfriends close behind him.

* * *

><p><strong>Real short chapter, I had to get that out of the way.<strong>

**We're moving forward with this, slowly but surely.**


End file.
